


Silver Sharp

by orphan_account



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bodyguard, Cheating, Cuban Lance (Voltron), Depressed Lance (Voltron), Drinking, Eating Disorders, Eventual Smut, Galra Keith (Voltron), Human Lance (Voltron), Keith and Shiro are Adoptive Siblings, Korean Keith (Voltron), Lance (Voltron) Has ADHD, Lance (Voltron) is a Dork, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Minor Matt Holt/Shiro, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Plot, Shiro is Tired, and so in love, lotor is a dick, minor coran/alfor, they're both goofballs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-25 15:40:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 37,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12039009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: After a threat is made against the Galran prince and his fiancé, Lotor hires a team of mercenaries both to protect them and to figure out who's targeting them--eradicating the usurpers, if possible. Coran, Keith, and Shiro head to Daibazaal to carry out the job, and Keith becomes more tied up in the world of politics than he'd expected when he falls for his mark, Lance, Lotor's fiancé. As if hiding the affair wasn't enough work, they still have to find the source of the threat, which they think is coming from within the castle, all while planning the royal wedding of the century.Minor Lance/Lotor, but Keith/Lance is endgame





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yo, so I use the time tracking system from the show, but I also have my own that I made up, and occasionally characters who speak English use the English ones as well  
> Tick~Second  
> Dobash~Minute  
> Varga~Hour  
> Quintet~Day  
> Sevten~Week  
> Gurt~Month  
> Pheeb~Year

“As you can see for yourselves, it’s a simple enough job; given both of your fluencies in Galran and Terran English, you two were natural choices for the job,” Coran was gesturing toward a screen, which he shut off with a flick of his wrist. “You may have noticed, however, something a bit amiss.”

“You’re coming with us?” Keith responded.

He nodded. “That’s correct. Though the mission calls for simple protection, I think it would be best for a true detective to be on the scene!”

Keith fought the urge to roll his eyes—Coran didn’t really consider himself a detective, did he?

“Er, no offense, Coran,” Shiro interjected. “But, none of us three are detectives. You’re an ex-royal advisor, and now a… how would you describe yourself again?”

“Your boss who doesn’t take kindly to insults, for one.”

“I don’t mean to insult you,” Shiro insisted. “You’ve just never performed an investigation that I’m aware of.”

“Well, this is a political situation, so it requires a bit more nuance than your average detective is capable of. Back when I served King Alfor, why, I foiled a number of plots the likes of which you wouldn’t believe! All of them from within the perceived safety of the castle walls. What our dear Prince has on his hand is a potential revolution, though he doesn’t even know who is enemy is—is it a relative, a new figure on Daibazaal, an enemy of Galra, or his own advisors? Galra has been in a fragile state since the deaths of Zarkon and Haggar, and given Lotor’s youth and inexperience, he’ll need all the help he can get.”

“Who do you think made the threat, then?” Keith asked.

“Oh, I believe that’s nothing more than a red threekler, sent to the palace to scare Lotor and draw attention away from the real threat. A true attack wouldn’t be announced as that letter implied. Better yet, it won’t even be an ‘attack’, but a gradual demolition of the government from the inside out.”

“So if someone would hurt him, physical or not, you think it would come from within the palace?” Shiro asked.

He nodded. “I do. Of course, I’ll have to do a bit more snooping around while we’re there, but I’m confident we can sniff out the traitor in less than half a pheeb.”

Keith groaned. “Half a pheeb? That’s a long mission.”

“You’ll be living like royalty, so stop complaining,” Coran laughed. “Now, pack your things, we leave in two vargas.”

Both Keith and Shiro usually kept their things ready to go in case of a sudden need to clear from their base, so they were already set to leave. They idled about for the rest of their allotted time, chatting about their new mission while Coran scrambled around to gather his many bags for the trip.

It had been many pheebs since either of them had set foot on Daibazaal, and for good reason. Last time Shiro had been there, he’d been a slave in the house of a minor general. Keith had been born a citizen of Earth, but he’d lost his parents at a young age. He’d run away to try and learn something of his Galra heritage, but once he arrived on Daibazaal, he was turned away from any homes simply because he was a “half-breed”, as many people spat to his face. He and Shiro met in the slums and quickly become friends: brothers, in a word. Escaping Daibazaal had been the best decision they’d ever made.

It wasn’t long after that they were found by Coran, former advisor to the royal family of Altea, who’d left the lush planet for more adventure, just like he’d enjoyed in his younger pheebs. He took Shiro and Keith in, helped them hone their talents as pilots and fighters, and housed them as well as countless other mercs and skilled people; in exchange, they were to perform whatever odd job anyone requested of Coran and his large team that had managed to penetrate almost every corner of the known universe.

Keith and Shiro had become favorites of Coran in their pheebs of service, and he trusted them with even the most delicate of jobs, be it protecting diplomats or even taking down cruel leaders. Coran had a strong moral compass, and he rarely accepted clients whose ideals didn’t align with his own. However, recently, he was taking on more and more gigs that floated in a moral grey area, and thus his fearsome reputation often preceded him. It was surprising that a figure as official as Prince Lotor of Galra would come to him for help, as Coran had been ostracized by most recognized governments of late, and mainly worked with more grassroots parties.

Still, when they arrived at Lotor’s castle on Daibazaal, Coran was treated with as much respect as any noble would be; Keith and Shiro, too.

“Welcome to my home,” Lotor, who looked just as gaudy as the files implied, gestured toward the expansive castle behind him as soon as they descended from their small pod’s retracting steps. “I hope you consider it yours while you’re here.” He spoke the usual language of the Galra, Daibago, with an accent that confirmed his upbringing in the capitol city. Keith and Shiro grew up elsewhere and thus there were dialectic differences, though it was considered the same language. Coran had said that they “spoke Galran”, but that was an inaccurate description. Alteans had one single language, hence his commonplace confusion, but Galrans had a handful of popular languages, both on Daibazaal and throughout their colonies. “Galran” wasn’t a language in and of itself. A bulk of the population on Daibazaal could probably understand one another well enough, however—excluding those who lived in the murky swamplands in the west, whose language was near indecipherable to other Daibazaal dwellers—so outsiders tended to bunch all the languages together under one term.

“Thank you for your hospitality,” Coran bowed low. “It’s been many a pheeb since I’ve been on these grounds.” His Daibago was impeccable, reminiscent of Lotor’s speech style, which made sense given his political background.

“I’m sure you spent a lot of time here when my father was alive,” Lotor noted. There wasn’t a hint of sorrow at the mention of his late father.

“I remember seeing you when you were still just a baby,” he confessed.

Lotor laughed.

“I’ve brought two of my top men with me,” Coran continued. “The Terran goes by Shiro, and the other, Keith.” Another terminology quirk that Keith had noticed in his time away from Earth: due to translation issues, his home planet was known as “Terra”. Calling it “earth” was apparently a very “terracentric way of thought”, since all planets were of “earth”, in a sense. So, the species that had successfully contacted other planets were called Terrans, rather than humans, which Keith always thought strange—were cats and hippos Terrans, then, too? They didn’t call Galrans Daibazaalans, now did they?

Much like with Daibazaal, the diversity of life on Earth was often overlooked by those who lived outside of it. Since the first space pioneers had agreed to have English as the official language on board their space vessels, most just assumed that Terrans all spoke English, which of course wasn’t the case. Keith’s native tongue had been Korean, but for the sake of space travel, it had been necessary for him to learn English; he’d studied Russian, too, though he was the first to admit to having almost completely forgotten the language.

“I’m sure Lance will be happy to meet others of his kind,” Lotor smiled, nodding toward the man on his left. “Keith, are you also part Terran?”

“I am,” he replied.

“I figured, you look it.” He placed his hand on the small of Lance’s back, pushing him forward gently. “This is my betrothed, Lance, of Terra.”

He waved with a big smile. “It’s nice to meet all of you. We thank you for coming on such short notice.” He spoke in English, his voice level and lyrical. He sounded young, probably too young for the Prince, but they hadn’t been given a lot of information on him. Regardless, it was hardly Keith’s place to judge.

“He unfortunately has yet to learn Daibago very well,” Lotor continued in Daibago, while Lance just smiled politely. “But, I hardly keep him around for his sparkling conversation,” he chuckled, seeming to expect the others to respond similarly. Lance was the only one who gave a small laugh, though his eyes showed that he hadn’t understood a word.

“How long have you two known each other?” Coran asked. “Your message was the first I heard that you’d gotten engaged—congratulations for that, by the way.”

“Oh, it hasn’t been long, we only met last pheeb, I believe. He immigrated to Daibazaal from Terra before that, obviously. I was immediately taken in by his beauty—I mean, just look at him.” He grabbed Lance’s hand, smiling with genuine affection. “He’s cute, like a child sometimes. He didn’t even know I was the Prince when we’d met. He was working in town and we quite literally bumped into each other when I was leaving my jeweler.” He chuckled. “He spilled some tea he’d been carrying all over my shoes, and was beside himself, trying to clean it up and promising to pay for new ones—as if he could! Still, I was charmed, and, since it was my fault, I insisted that he let _me_ make it up to _him._ I’d just bought a lovely sapphire necklace and gave it to him—looks better with his eyes, anyway. After that, we started talking and I found him refreshing so I invited him to my next party. It was hilarious, seeing the look of shock on his face when he found out who I was. Still, he never treated me differently for that. It’s nice having him around to contrast all the snooty nobles who’re bending over backwards to impress me.”

“Talk about a Cinderella story,” Shiro muttered under his breath. Keith snorted. He was sure Shiro and Coran were both on the same page as him: there was no way in hell that Lance hadn’t known Lotor’s identity when they’d met. He didn’t have enough faith in people to buy into the story completely.

“Marrying a commoner, and an immigrant, at that,” Lotor continued. Wow, Keith thought, this man surely liked to hear himself speak, didn’t he? He’d only been with him a few dobashes and he wouldn’t mind teaming up with whoever it was who wanted him dead, truth be told. “Is unheard of in my family. Of course, love is love, right?”

“Are there those in your council who thought it an unwise decision?”

“Oh, definitely. Most of my advisors, for one. Even a number of citizens think it wrong. But, I am not my father, and I see no problem with such unions—‘Galran purity’ to me is absurd and archaic. Lance is very friendly, though, and he’s grown on the people quite nicely, I must say. Though, given the recent threats, I’ve discouraged him from his usual trips into town.”

Coran nodded. “That is wise. We don’t wish for you to change up your routines too much, but for the purposes of safety, keeping Lance within the grounds would probably be for the best. I plan on having Keith attend to him personally, while Shiro and I will remain with you, if that’s alright.”

“Of course, whatever you think is best. If you’ll follow me, then, I’ll direct you to your rooms. There are old servants’ quarters connected to the master bedroom which have been empty since we brought on new staff.”

“New staff?”

“Yes, well, after I did away with that dated practice of keeping foreigners on as slaves and gave those who’d been forced to serve my family reparations enough for them to get their own homes and pursue whatever opportunities they desired, we brought on new workers who are paid a living wage and allowed to live with their families and not in such cruel conditions.”

“Er, right, of course! That was always a sore point back when I served Altea, I remember, so I’m glad to hear that you’re so forward thinking! Not to insult your father, or anything.”

Lotor waved his hand as if to brush away any offense. “Oh, don’t worry about that. Like I said, I don’t enjoy spending time with people who treat me so delicately. I prefer brutal honesty. Lance was a bit bored being holed up this past week—oh, sevten. Sorry, he’s rubbed off on me a bit so sometimes I use his Terran measurements. Anyway, he made a little project out of decorating your rooms. It’s nice, I’ll admit, but if you don’t like it, I ask that you be kind to him.”

They agreed to it before following after the Prince and Lance, nodding along as Lotor told them random facts about the rooms, statues, and paintings they passed on their trip.

They finally arrived at their rooms, and Keith had to admit that they were lovely. Galran architecture and design was a bit dark and minimalist in general, however Lance seemed to have been inspired by his Terran upbringing as it was much cozier than the rest of the castle's interiors.

“I hope you like it,” Lance swept through the room gracefully, adjusting a knick-knack on one of the shelves. “When I heard there’d be Terrans, I grew a bit nostalgic. Torie was kind enough to give me complete control over everything! I was inspired by my old home; I used to live on a beach, so I went with that as far as theme and colors.”

It did remind Keith of a resort, with wood and wicker furniture, airy drapes over the large windows, and light blues and tans making up the bulk of the color scheme. There were even several paintings of beach scenes and palm trees.

“The beaches here are quite different than they are back home,” Lance laughed. “I haven’t had a chance to visit the shores on Altea, either, so I’m not sure how those compare.”

“It’s beautiful, thank you,” Coran smiled. “Altea’s beaches are more similar to your own than to Daibazaal’s, and I feel right at home!” His own Terran English was a bit muddled, but Lance seemed very appreciative of the effort.

“I’m glad! So, this room is a sort of… common room, yes?” He used the Galran word, the language heavy on his tongue. Still, he continued, unabashed. “Then, three rooms with three beds for sleep.” He counted off three fingers. “All the same.” Here he switched to English. “Unfortunately, there’s only a common bathroom, though there are more than enough utilities for the three of you. I’d recommend only using the two left-most showers and toilets, just for the best water pressure and such.” He gestured toward a large armoire. “Here we have a TV, and each bedroom has a work station with a screen that you can stream whatever you’d like on. Oh, and there are extra linens and towels—“

Lotor placed a hand on Lance’s shoulder, and he shut his mouth immediately. “Thank you, dear, I’m sure our guests are perfectly capable of exploring the rooms for themselves.”

“Of course, I apologize,” he frowned.

“Again, thank you so much for everything, Lance. It’s clear to see that you put a lot of thought and care into this. I am humbled; you seemed to have thought of everything,” Coran smiled. He sent a significant glare Keith and Shiro’s way.

“Yes, thank you, your Highness,” Shiro caught the hint first, bowing at his waist while elbowing Keith in the ribs.

“We’re happy for such great accommodations,” Keith echoed the motion with his praise. Lance practically inflated before their very eyes. He was lovely, no doubt, but his brightness was being covered. While Keith didn’t really like the Galran Prince—nor how he seemed to treat Lance like shit—he had to admit that Lotor had great taste.

“We’ll give you some time to settle in before beginning our tour, if that’s alright with you?” Lotor asked.

“Yes, that would be fantastic!”

Lance turned to the Prince. “Do you want me along for the tour, too?”

“No, I’m sure it won’t be very entertaining for you. Go ahead and run along.”

He nodded. “I’ll be at the pool, if you’d like to join me later.”

“I’ll think about it. I’m busy, you know.”

“Of course.” He leaned up on his toes to place a quick kiss to Lotor’s cheek. “Love you.”

He pat Lance’s head. “Have fun swimming.”

With that, Lance was excused, and he practically ran from the room. Lotor shook his head. “He’s like a kid, I swear. Anyway, before I leave, is there anything I can do for you?”

“I think we should be fine for now. Will we be making a stop at the room where the threat was left during our tour?” Coran asked.

“Yes, I planned to take you there first. Afterwards, we’ll head to the dining hall for a quick lunch—I’m sure you’re starving. We have an amazing chef that I brought on for Lance’s sake. He’s Terran, but he’s capable of serving up any cuisine you could imagine.”

“Sounds great. How long do we have to unpack?” Coran was the only one who had a need for time, with his three large cases. Keith and Shiro each only had one small backpack with them.

“Does a varga work for you?”

Coran nodded. “I’ll try my best to make due!”

“Very well,” Lotor nodded. “I’ll leave you to it, then.” He turned, exiting the room and shutting the door behind him.

Keith immediately made himself at home, plopping down on the plush couch and kicking his feet up on the matching ottoman. “These are some nice digs.”

“Don’t be an animal,” Shiro chided. “We’re here for a while, so I’d prefer you not make a mess of the place with your grimy boots.” He pushed Keith’s feet off the furniture. Keith grumbled, using his foot to shuck off his opposite boot before removing the second with his hands. He set his socked feet right back on the ottoman.

“Better?” he rolled his eyes.

“Much. Though, your feet smell like shit,” Shiro glared.

“Smells like home, I say!” Coran smiled. “Though, I ask you keep your things to your own room, Keith, rather than the common area. Now, I’ll be in my room. If you have anything nicer to wear, I’d recommend you change into that—we’re dining with the Prince, after all.”

Keith groaned. “This Lotor guy’s an asshole.”

“Keith!” Shiro yelled. “He could be listening in, you know. It would be wise of him to have rooms like this bugged.”

“He said he prefers honesty, didn’t he? And what’s up with that Lance guy? It’s like he’s Lotor’s pet rather than his fiancé.”

“I did notice that; I feel a bit badly for him, don’t you?” Coran asked.

“Feel bad for a gold-digger?” Keith scoffed. “Are you joking?”

“You think so lowly of him?” Shiro frowned.

“I find it hard to believe that someone looking the way he does ‘just so happened’ to bump into Lotor.”

“Well, perhaps we should save our judgement until we know him a bit better, hm?”

“Coran’s right,” Shiro nodded. “Regardless of the situation, Lance is still a person. He seems lonely—did you see how happy he was just to show us our rooms?”

“Yet Lotor wouldn’t let him speak too freely—a shame. I’m sure he has a bright mind, given his youth and upbringing. Still, it’s not out of Lotor’s character to have taken a husband for the sake of showing off his beauty; he’s always been a rather vain young man. And, with how uncommon Terrans are in this particularly galaxy, he’d be quite the ‘prize’, if you forgive the crude imagery that implies.”

“Just be nice, Keith,” Shiro ordered. “I won’t have you getting in a fight with _another_ mark.”

“That was one time!”

“Two, technically,” Coran reminded. “Three if we count the situation back on—“

“Let’s not talk about Kerberos,” Shiro chuckled uneasily. “I’m sure we have nothing to worry about this time around, because Keith will be perfectly civil with Lance, right Keith?”

“Right,” he grumbled.

“Good.” He stood. “I’m going to take a quick nap, I think. I couldn’t sleep on the flight.”

“Of course,” Coran said. “Then, I’ll take my leave.” He hoisted his bags and made his way to his room. Shiro trudged much less enthusiastically, shutting his door quietly and, Keith assumed, falling onto his bed without another thought.

Alone, Keith reclined further into the couch—perhaps Shiro had the right idea. They would search the rooms later for bugs and whatnot, so he knew he could relax in the meanwhile.

The sound of his knock broke him from his musing, but surprisingly it wasn’t from the front door. “Er, come in?” he said.

The bathroom door opened, and on the other side was Lance. He had a confident air about him, but at the same time his body was guarded, his smile tentative.

“Hello,” he began. “Keith, right?”

He stood, bowing quickly. “Yes. Can I help you?”

“Oh, no, thank you. I don’t wish to interrupt anything, so please continue to make yourself comfortable.” He continued into the room, running his hand over a wooden table; his gaze froze on a small glass figurine.

Keith didn’t want to be rude, but neither did he want to disobey a command. He sat back down, but he kept his feet on the ground.

The noise attracted Lance’s attention, and he crossed the remaining few steps to the couch. He sat at the end opposite Keith.

“Torie likes to think himself a capable host, but I think he can sometimes lack certain delicacies. He didn't even ask after your health or your trip! That's diplomacy 101! Did you have an enjoyable flight?” he asked.

“It was long, that’s for sure.”

“Long? I thought it only one jump from Altea.”

“We have an older ship, so the jumps are much shorter. And we weren’t on Altea.”

“Oh, I see,” Lance nodded. “So, where are you from, Keith? Earth, I assume, but where specifically?”

“I actually wasn’t born on Earth, but on a Galra base around Earth. My mother was a Galra soldier stationed there, while my father was a medic on board. But, I was raised in Korea, moved to Texas.”

“Texas! How quaint,” Lance laughed. “I never visited the US, unfortunately, though I always wanted to. I grew up in Cuba myself. My family flew off for bigger and better things just before the War, thankfully.”

Keith winced. “I’m glad to hear you got away from that.”

“Yeah,” he smiled. “They’re still all together, but I was hungry for adventure, myself. Ran away and hitched a ride with the first cargo ship that would take me; I landed on Daibazaal at random.”

“Weren’t you scared?”

He shook his head. “It’s honestly the first I’ve felt at home since Cuba. We were forced to move from station to station; it was hard given our status as refugees, my father’s political ties… I always felt like an outsider. My family is actually back on Altea—that’s why I was curious about your trip. I… don’t speak with them often. We parted on bad terms.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Oh, it’s fine. Anyway, I suppose we’ll be getting close while you’re here, right? So, tell me about yourself! What brought a cowboy all the way out to this galaxy?”

He chuckled. “Work. My mom and dad passed, and there wasn’t much keeping me on Earth,” he said. “I ran away when I was… seven, I think? Stayed with my mom’s sister for a bit, but eventually left her place, too. I’ve been on my own since I was eight.”

Lance gasped. “Oh, that’s terrible!”

He shrugged. “It was fine. Made me tough.”

He shook his head. “Kids shouldn’t have to be tough!”

“It’s in the past, anyway,” Keith began. “And I turned out fine. So… Lotor said you used to go into the city a lot? Do you have a lot of friends here?”

“Well, I try to meet new people when I can, but they tend to ignore me in the city given my race. At least till they figure out just who I am, then they try and sell me things or ask for favors. Lotor usually doesn’t let me speak much with visitors, either. I’m just there to sit and look pretty—I can’t blame him, I mean, I’m hardly a gifted speaker, even in English! I’m sure he doesn’t want me butchering his language around his guests. He’d be a laughing stock! Despite all that, he’s been nothing but kind to me, for which I’m very grateful.”

Grateful to be so stifled? To be made fun of? Keith frowned. “You seem plenty smart to me. I mean, you lasted so long on a planet where you didn’t know the language, the culture? That’s admirable.”

He flushed, “Oh, it was dumb of me to have even wandered from my family. I didn’t grow up having to be tough, not like you. In fact, I was spoiled rotten. It was a rude awakening when I arrived in such a hostile environment. I was lucky to have made some Terran friends who helped me get a job.”

“Lotor told us you two met in the city, is that where you worked?”

He nodded. “That’s right. That was also because I messed up—I couldn’t even read directions correctly! I was running late for work but stopped for some tea because the barista was just so pretty, I had to talk to her. And, when I realized how late I was, I bolted out of there. His shop was just next door, and, well, the rest is history.” He laughed at himself. “How Lotor puts up with me is beyond me! I couldn’t have asked for a more understanding fiancé.”

“Right…” Keith replied. “Do you still talk with those Terrans?”

“Oh! Yes! They both work here, now. It was the least I could do to help them. My friend, Hunk, I’m sure you’ll meet him. He’s in the kitchens. Katie—well, she goes by Pidge—is interning under her brother Matt, who himself works under one of Lotor’s financial advisors. I see them both rather often. And what about you?”

“Me?”

“You know, friends and the like?”

“Oh, well, I don’t have much time for that. Shiro, we’ve been friends since we were kids. He’s like a brother to me. And Coran found us a while ago, too. Even though he’s my boss, he’s more like a dad. Or a grandpa… maybe an uncle?”

Lance laughed. “Space uncle Coran? I like it.”

Keith smiled. Maybe he _had_ been too quick to judge Lance. He was surprisingly easy to talk to—why he thought he’d be as stuck up as Lotor was beyond him. Lance had been a commoner, after all.

Well, _allegedly_. Keith still had his doubts; perhaps Lance was lying through his teeth even then. Perhaps he was nothing more than a throne-chasing gold-digger who’d been sent to seduce Lotor and throw Galra into chaos. It certainly was convenient that his past would lead to a lack of papers or documentation. He’d have to look into any Terran immigrant families living on Altea to corroborate his story.

“Does Lotor know you’re here?” Keith asked.

Lance looked guilty. “No… and I really shouldn’t be here. He can be a bit… possessive at times, especially when other Terrans are around.”

Keith certainly hadn’t gotten that vibe from the Prince. If anything, it seemed like he was eager to leave Lance be with people more similar to him.

“But I couldn’t pass up any opportunity to speak with you—er, with any of you. Hunk and Pidge are always so busy with their own jobs and families, and Lotor, too, is running the Empire. I have virtually no responsibilities, not even keeping up our home since we have such a large staff! Surely he wouldn’t mind.”

“Are you trying to reassure me, or yourself?” Keith hadn’t meant to voice his thought aloud.

Lance laughed. “Myself, of course. Well,” he fiddled his hands in his lap. “I should probably get to the pool before Lotor stops by. I’m sure I’ll see you later tonight, once Lotor officially gives your assignment.” He rose, a small smile on his face. “It was nice chatting with you, Keith. I hope we can become friends while you’re here.”

“Right,” Keith rose, prepared to be polite and open a door for Lance, or something. But, he was too quick, already across the room and out the door before Keith could say another word.

He spent the rest of the varga flipping through the provided television’s near limitless channels. There was a plethora of daytime dramas, and he sat through two episodes of what seemed to be a soap opera set on some moon during its founding days—it had wild west-esque shootouts, gore, and a laugh track. He almost thought he was hallucinating out of exhaustion, it was so strange, till another knock, this one on the main door, alerted him to the fact that he was awake.

It was a servant, there to deliver them to Lotor who was apparently waiting for them in the western wing. It was where the whole thing had started, a rock tossed through the window with a menacing note. Not a plain rock, as Keith had assumed, but a rock painted a deep tan, with darker brown on half of it, and two, cobalt eyes above a frowning mouth.

“Oh,” he said simply, squatting to observe it. “This wasn’t in the file.”

“Yes, well,” Lotor trailed off. “I apologize. I’ll be honest, I thought Coran would be more willing to work with me if he assumed it was a larger, political plot.”

“You don’t think this is?” Shiro turned over the note that had been attached. “Marry the slut and he dies,” it read, all crimson ink and jagged writing.

Coran hummed, picking up the Lance-painted rock. “Does Lance know?”

“He knows of the attack, but not… all of it. I simply told him it was a rival upset with my popularity.”

“Why wouldn’t you tell him?” Keith asked.

“Lance is a terribly delicate man,” Lotor frowned. “I fear that if he knew the truth, he would run away for fear of bringing shame to me or my home. He doesn’t understand why I love him, sadly, and he has so little confidence. Something like this would just shatter him. In the meanwhile, it’s best that I keep him under watch.”

Keith looked at Shiro, who shared his frown.

Coran decided to ask the uncomfortable question. “Forgive me any rudeness, but why would anyone threaten Lance? Is it simply because he’s Terran?  A male?”

“Does it matter?” Lotor yelled. “Someone has threatened something that belongs to me, and I’m paying you to protect him and get to the bottom of this!”

“Of course,” Shiro held up his hands in a placating gesture. “But, don’t let this distract you from a bigger potential threat. I highly doubt a person would just want to hurt Lance—no one here knows of him. It’s all to get to you: to rattle you. How you respond to this in the public eye will guide their next move, surely. We need to make sure that you maintain control, or at the very least the appearance of it. Leave Lance’s protection to Keith. We’ll also need you to give us the names of anyone who may want to see you gone. No harm will come to Lance, we swear it.”

Coran and Keith nodded.

“Right, of course. Forgive me for my outburst. Besides, Lance is just so happy with the wedding planning, I don’t want to upset him at all.”

So, maybe Lotor did actually care about Lance, Keith thought to himself.

“The audacity of anyone to threaten what is mine, however, is unforgivable,” he hissed.

Oh, or maybe not? It was a bit confusing.

“It’s possible that a rival could be using Lance’s heritage to criticize your vision for Galra,” Coran mused. “But you said he himself is a popular person?”

“Yes, people think him lovely, both to look at as well as speak with—those who speak English, that is.”

“Perhaps then hiding him away isn’t the best idea. He could be a key ally in these times, you know.”

“He’s fit to speak with commoners, but not with my advisors, nor my visitors. He’s too plain—that’s part of his charm, you know. But to the outside world, I know he’s not the ideal marriage partner, he’s no prince.”

What did that even mean? Lotor was a prince and Keith had nothing positive to say about him.

“So he doesn’t have a personal relationship with anyone else with any power?” Shiro asked.

“None. I forbid it.”

Shiro winced. “Well, I still think it may be best to allow him his trips to the city, given this new information.”

“Really?” Coran raised a brow. “Not that I don’t have faith in Keith, of course…”

Keith wasn’t sure what Shiro’s angle was, but he went along with it. “I agree,” he said simply. “The threat is most likely from your inner circle, not a commoner. Though they tried to make this look like a disgruntled, nationalistic citizen, the amount of effort it would take for them to get past the walls, to land this hit… all for a shallow threat? I think it’s a… what did you call it, Coran?”

“A red threekler!”

The word was apparently familiar to Lotor, who nodded.

“Oh… is that like a red herring?” Shiro mused.

“A herring? Never heard of it!”

“I suppose Lance will be glad to have his small habits… plus he still had some appointments with florists and his tailor for the wedding.”

“I assume this will be a large affair?” Coran asked.

“Of course! All the main royal families will be in attendance. Even the Altean delegation has agreed to join the celebration.”

Keith looked at Coran, barely noticing his flinch. “That’ll be an interesting security challenge. When is the date?”

“A gurt from tomorrow.”

“Only a gurt!” Coran gasped. “And he’s still finalizing arrangements?”

“He wished to be married on his parent’s anniversary, he said. That it was tradition in his culture. There’s so much about Terran unions that I’ve learned courting him! I didn’t even want to have a party, it’s not the Galra way, but he insisted. I’d have preferred a smaller party, just close family…”

Keith crossed his arms, storing all this information for later. Shiro nodded at him—he knew he’d have to be keeping a close eye on Lance in the upcoming gurt. As much as he didn’t trust Lotor, something about Lance was rubbing him the wrong way, too. He’d certainly have his hands full, investigating this threat from all angles.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact: this story started out as like a legally blonde au, but kinda also like black widow type deal, but then i wanted it in space, but then i couldnt decide who lance would have seduced and killed. i almost thought of him using lotor to get to zarkon, but like zarkon x honerva are relationship goals so i couldn't do that to her, ya know... and like coran and co were gonna be the legal team defending lance but he was actually guilty... idek know where that would've gone so things shifted drastically haha. who knows, i may still write that story, if i can think of a way to do so

Keith was a perceptive kind of person, he always had been. It helped him with his job: spotting escape routes, potential assassins, disguises, lies in stories… he did it all without thinking. It had saved his ass on multiple occasions, his natural instincts, his intuition. He wasn’t the most social, and because of it most people thought him incapable of understanding social cues, but that simply wasn’t the case. He understood people—their mannerisms, their motives, everything—very well. It was the whole deciding on an appropriate response thing where he struggled. His instincts pushed him one way, but society usually hinted at an alternative choice.

So, he tended to remain quiet, to observe from the sidelines. People seemed surprised when he remembered conversation points from gurts before, figuring his lack of conversation meant he hadn’t been listening. The truth was that Keith noticed everything. To a certain extent, he thought himself hyper aware.

This awareness that kept him alive, that kept his teammates kicking, too, was proving to be his downfall on this new mission. He preferred dividing his attention evenly amongst all things, but around Lance, it was practically impossible.

Everything about him was distracting! His smell when he walked into a room, especially after taking his daily, infamously-long shower; his clothes, effortlessly fashion-forward, conservative yet daring, and always complimenting his physique; his voice, timid in the company of those he wanted to impress, but gradually growing in strength around Keith only quintets after his arrival; his mouth, whether it was speaking or smiling or pouting or laughing or even just sitting innocently, edges curled up even when relaxed and giving him a perpetual coy expression; and finally his eyes—Lotor’s favorite feature as he’d heard one too many times—so open and honest and full of a light that both reminded Keith of rainy days spent lounging in bed, the drip-dropping of rain lulling him to a contented sleep but also burning him up like the sun’s rays lording over a packed beach.

He blamed too many pheebs spent alone for everything, for his undeniable attraction to the stranger, his _job_ , he reminded himself—hey, he thought wryly, at least Shiro wouldn’t have to worry about Keith not getting along with his mark this time around.

Anyone with eyes could see that Lance was attractive, but Keith could easily overlook that. Even stumbling upon Lance just after his tour, clad in the smallest of shorts and lounging by the pool in an effort to get some sun, as flustering as that had been, hadn’t sparked a flame of interest in Keith.

And no, it wasn’t when Lance teased him for his mullet, the façade of a dignified prince-to-be cracking on that second quintet only to give way to more childish bickering, a comfortable repertoire that Keith was more than happy to carry on.

It wasn’t the long sighs he filled the quiet air with whenever Lotor left him for a meeting or rejected any of his proposals for them to spend time together. How he started each conversation brighter than Daibazaal’s third moon and slowly deflated as Lotor shot him down, but still kept a pained smile that Lotor never seemed to detect was fake. Despite it, he kept trying, telling Keith, who watched on from his post, that Lotor was much busier, much more important than him, that it was very understandable that he wouldn’t want to spend time with him.

It wasn’t even when Keith went with him into the city for his dress fitting—“Don’t tell Lotor this, but I told him it was Terran tradition for the person of lower status to wear a dress—are you laughing at me? Shut up!” he grinned. “Before we moved, my sister got married, and I fell in love with the planning: the flowers and the bridal party, the decorations and the cake… and then… _the dress_. God, she was stunning. I never understood why she wouldn’t just dress like that everyday! Why everyone doesn’t always go over the top! Now that I have the money for it, I thought, why the hell not? And I wear suits everyday, he’s seen me dressed up in that way! Sure I can add a cape or whatever for flair, but this is my day! Why shouldn’t I look like a queen?” Keith had reminded him that he’d be a prince, not a queen, a comment he dismissed with a scoff.

Lance looked fantastic in the gown, of course. He’d opted for a much more revealing piece—he wanted to make an impression, he’d said. Lance was a lanky specimen, tall and lean. Keith would call him gangly if the word didn’t have such a negative connotation. Still, the generous open back and side and a low-cut halter revealed subtle musculature, the likes of which pinked Keith’s cheeks more than he’d like to admit. It was clear that Lance was pampered, he’d even mentioned being raised a bit spoiled, so his body had never been forced to face its limits in battle or labor. And yet, he was far from soft, in look and in temperament, as Keith was starting to learn.

It was on thirteenth quintet, almost the end of their second sevten together, when Keith realized just how royally fucked he was. The quintet had started out normally, Lance meeting him at breakfast. For once, he and Lotor had spent the night together, and Lance seemed positively radiant for it. Even Lotor was a bit more affectionate, actually seeming remiss that they couldn’t spend more time together. They parted with a lasting kiss, as well as a few quick whispers—Lotor had been speaking Spanish, of all things, which he’d never done in front of them. Lance was swooning.

All through the morning, he seemed a bit more distracted than usual, much less talkative. He couldn’t wipe the grin from his face, though, and as much as Keith detested being distracted by his idle chatter, he missed it, even if the reason behind his sudden reticence was lovesickness.

It all went downhill when afternoon tea was delivered. Lance had been looking over some of Lotor’s financial forms—apparently he’d been entrusted with it since he moved in—when his friend, Hunk, who Keith had met on the second quintet of his mission, came in.

“Hunk!” Lance stood, throwing his arms up. “Buddy! You came all this way for me? So sweet!”

Hunk didn’t return the enthusiasm, oddly enough. Whenever Keith witnessed them together, it was like two overexcited puppies meeting for the first time, both of them fawning over some story about a mutual friend or a new recipe or outfit either of them had discovered.

Hunk cleared his throat, eyeing Keith with suspicion. “Can I talk to you for a bit, Lance?”

His face fell. Arms crossed, he immediately closed himself off. “I’m not supposed to leave Keith’s side. You know that,” he supplied.

Keith caught Hunk’s glare, and rose rapidly. “I can just stand outside,” he said. Hunk nodded at him.

“Thank you.”

“Some guard you are,” Lance rolled his eyes. “What if Hunk’s a murderer?”

“I _should_ kill you with how reckless you’re being!” he yelled. Keith could hear more than the words. Hunk was worried for Lance’s well-being, that much was clear. He was privy to something that Keith wasn’t, something that neither of them wanted him to know, understandably.

He fled the room, shutting the door behind him just as Lance let out a long, pathetic whine. Had he been a weaker man, perhaps he would’ve returned, but as it was, he gave the friends their due privacy.

Half a varga passed, and he knocked.

“Come in,” Hunk’s voice was surprisingly low. Keith obeyed, only to find Lance snoozing against Hunk’s shoulder while he stroked his back. He hoped his suspicion wasn’t evident on his face, but apparently it was.

“Don’t look at us like that, man,” he rolled his eyes. “We’re only friends.”

Keith’s eyes snapped from Hunk’s hand to his eyes, cloudy expression gone and replaced with his usual soft look. “I didn’t look at you in any way.” He nodded toward Lance. “Is he alright?”

“Yeah. He is. He just… needs some sense talked into him sometimes. It sucks to be the voice of reason, but someone’s gotta do it. He doesn’t have his family, and Pidge is complete trash with being tactful.”

“What about Lotor?” Keith asked. “Is… is it something he can help with?”

Hunk leveled him with a look that he quickly translated. Ah. So Lotor was the problem.

“Is there anything I can do? I know I don’t know him all that well,” he began, faltering. Was it his place to interfere? Probably not. Sure, he knew Coran would understand—he had a weakness for people in need, after all, but he’d be rightly confused as to why Keith had gone and gotten attached to a stranger.

He shook his head. Nope. He wasn’t attached. Not in any way.

“You’ve done plenty,” Hunk smiled. “He needs a friend above everything. I know he can be a bit much sometimes, but you’ve been listening to him, like actually listening, you know? He raves about you. So thank you for that.”

“Oh, um, well. It’s my job,” he said.

Hunk hummed, raising a brow. “Part of your protection gig, is it?” Keith avoided his look. “I think Pidge and I should take him out tonight, cheer him up a bit. Would you like to join us?”

He had seemed plenty cheerful, so Keith was a bit confused. He’d have to go with Lance regardless, but it was nice that he’d been directly invited. “Uh, sure. That’s fine.”

“I have to head back to work, so I’m just gonna lay him in his bed.” With no effort at all, he stood, cradling Lance in both his arms. “Tell him I’m sorry I had to go—I’m sure he’ll understand. He’ll probably be happier to wake up to you, anyway,” he mumbled. Keith pretended not to hear anything.

Hunk laid him down in his bed, eyeing Keith who stood in the doorway significantly. “He gets cold,” he supplied, as if that was supposed to mean something.

It wasn’t till minutes after he left that Keith realized what he’d meant by the comment. Despite him getting cold, Hunk hadn’t placed him under any covers. With a sigh, Keith sat next to Lance’s prone body. He would’ve kept still had he not shivered, but as it were he felt bad leaving him to freeze. So, he laid down, drawing Lance onto his chest.

Like a vice, he latched onto Keith, arm and leg thrown haphazardly over his torso and hips. With a sigh, he accepted his fate, shutting his own eyes to enjoy a light snooze.

It was a short nap, with Lance rousing only half a varga later.

“Huh?” he sat up, rubbing his eyes. Keith sat up slightly, watching as realization passed over Lance’s features. Lance flushed. “Oh, sorry for making you my temporary pillow.”

“It’s fine,” he said. “Are you alright?”

He waved his hand. “Oh, of course. Hunk is just always making too big a deal of things.”

“Is everything alright with… with Lotor?”

He regarded him with some suspicion. “Why would you think things weren’t okay?”

He only shrugged. Lance slipped from the end of the bed, stretching his arms over his head.

Keith continued. “Hunk mentioned that he and Pidge would probably take you out tonight to cheer you up.”

He scoffed. “Ah, yes, alcohol solves all problems.”

“So there is a problem?”

He rolled his eyes. “Not the point. Well, I hope you’re ready for a night on the town. We don’t half-ass things, you know. You’ll take a walk on the wild side of the city.” He crossed his arms. “Lotor won’t be happy to have me out all night, though. He hates when I drink. Thinks I make a fool of myself—which is fair, I suppose.”

Keith didn’t think it too fair—Lance was young, why shouldn’t he be free to go out with his friends on occasion?

“I may have to crash at my apartment in town, which is unfortunate,” he mumbled. “I haven’t set foot there in months! Er, gurts,” he said.

“You still have a place?”

“Sure, Lotor gives me enough money to keep up rent payments. A lot of my shit is there too.”

“Does he know?”

“Er, I don’t think so? And it would be best if he not find out.”

“Right…” Keith rose, stepping toward the door to the living room. “I’ll let you get changed, then. We have to meet with Lotor’s advisor, don’t we?”

“That’s right, Acxa,” he frowned. “She doesn’t like me much, unfortunately. It’ll mainly be a conversation for you two, though, talking about security for the wedding day and such.”

“Why doesn’t she like you?”

“She thinks I’m playing Lotor.”

Who didn’t? Keith thought to himself. “I’m sorry,” he said instead.

“Oh, it’s fine. She’s at least gotten over calling me a ‘whore’ every time I set foot in the room, or sending attractive people at me to try and catch me cheating,” he scoffed. “Now she just tells all the guests that I’m Lotor’s consort, not his fiancé, and that I’m only here temporarily. At least she doesn’t say anything to my face anymore.”

“That’s awful!”

Lance shrugged. “It’s no big deal. Anyway, I’ll be out in a bit. I don’t care too much to be on time for this meeting. So, make yourself comfortable in the living room.”

“Of course,” Keith nodded, retreating to Lance’s sitting room and shutting the door behind him.

It was set up similarly to his own quarters, though where there were three rooms in his, Lance had a larger front room, a larger bedroom with a walk-in closet, and an enormous bathroom attached to his room. The décor followed a notably Galran style, though there were subtle touches of Earth, with soft colored fabrics and curtains as well as paintings and sculptures over the mantle.

In his time with Lance, Keith spent a good deal of time waiting for the man to get ready. As such, he was more familiar with his rooms than he was with his own. In particular, he was familiar with the impressive view from Lance’s balcony, overlooking the eastern garden of the palace and even the mountains just beyond the city limits. They’d spent many an evening sipping at tea while discussing their travels, both of them having spent a good amount of their lives struggling to find their homes. Lance seemed convinced that his home was with Lotor, though Keith still caught a wistful look in his eyes when he mentioned his own, ever-changing lifestyle. With every conversation, every tick spent in his company, Keith found himself sympathizing more and more with Lance, surely trapped in a loveless union with a cruel tyrant—Shiro had gathered very few flattering things to say about Lotor’s personality, that was for sure. He was a good leader, admittedly, respected by his people, but to Lance, Keith thought him horrendous. He lamented that someone as kind and bright as Lance was being smothered by such a man as him.

It was good, he thought, that Lance had his other friends to support him. And, it seemed, even he was something of a comfort to him—he wasn’t sure what he thought about that. He had no idea when they’d leave, after all, and it would be a shame for Lance to come to rely on him only for him to abandon him. Given Lance’s temperament and past, he doubted that would be good for his health. He didn’t think that Lotor would be coming around anytime soon to offer him the affection he clearly craved, and a selfish part of him hoped he never would. Maybe then Lance could see that this marriage wasn’t the right choice for him.

He shook his head of the thought. It really wasn’t his place to think such things, after all. What would he have happen, then, if the wedding was called off? Would he take Lance for himself? He didn’t like the man in that way, surely. He was amusing enough, attractive. But they barely knew each other.

He rid himself of his dangerous thinking, instead focusing on the view. Damn, it was a good one.

“Ready to go?”

Keith startled awake—when had he fallen asleep? He turned toward the voice, eyes instantly soaking in all of Lance.

“What are you wearing?”

He gave a little twirl. It wasn’t much. “Pissing of Acxa gives me great joy, and she already thinks I’m too provocative, so why not go all out?”

Keith cleared his throat. “Right, well, let’s get going, then.” He brushed past Lance, making his way to the hallway in record time. Lance giggled, following after him.

Before they entered their meeting, Lance took Keith’s hand in his, pulling him into the room. Acxa wasn’t alone, as another of Lotor’s advisors was there, a woman Keith had met only once before. Ezor.

“…sorry we’re late, we were super busy,” Lance began, shooting the women a wink. “You know how it is I’m sure,” he plopped down right next to Acxa who was glaring as she eyed him up and down. Keith was forced to sit with the sudden pull.

Ezor laughed. She seemed to not mind Lance so much as Acxa, Keith noticed when they’d met previously. She’d even try to speak English with him. “Looking good, Lance! Ready for the big day?”

“Of course! In just a matter of sevtens I’ll be a bachelor no more,” he whined. “So, it’s now or never to get a piece of this,” he gestured toward himself.

She laughed, slamming her hand on the table. Acxa bristled. “This is a serious meeting,” she chided.

“My offers are just as serious,” he leaned on the table, sending a wink her way. “Including the one from the first time we met, my dear.”

She clenched her fist while Keith fought the urge to laugh. He cleared his throat. “Shall we start, then?”

“That’s right! I’ve got a bachelor party to get to tonight, you know. Gotta get wild and crazy while I can!” Lance smiled. He turned to Ezor, apparently no longer interested in what Acxa had to say. She turned to Keith.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with such an idiot,” she said in Daibago. Keith looked at Lance, wanting to keep him in the conversation but not wanting to offend Lotor’s advisor either.

He responded in Daibago. “He’s certainly very spirited.”

She snorted. “He’s a shame to have around. Lotor is a fool to wed someone so unrefined.”

“She’s just jealous,” Ezor interjected, also in Daibago. “But of who, I honestly can’t tell.” She immediately rejoined her side conversation with Lance. They were hushed, but Keith heard them talking about clubs and liquor.

Acxa flushed. “Never mind her. This meeting will thankfully be brief. I met already with Coran and Shiro, and we agreed on a plan of action for the wedding. Everything will be inside, the staff will be people we know. Security at the delivery stages is the most important, we think, as Coran guesses a strike wouldn't come from a foreign dignitary, but from staff or someone in Lotor's inner circle. Everyone will be searched at the doors, of course, but we can't let anyone sneak in any weapons through these vulnerable points.”

Keith nodded. “It makes sense.”

It wasn’t the most fun of meetings he’d been subjected to, but the topic of conversation was right up his alley, at least. Acxa was an admirable advisor; her talent for planning ahead made her indispensable. It made sense why she would butt heads with someone as free-spirited as Lance, who seemed to have stumbled into Lotor’s life without any notice. Since he himself had been wary of the man on first meeting, of course someone even closer to Lotor would still be mistrustful. Still, there was a bitterness in her words that hinted at a more personal distaste toward Lance—he’d have to let Shiro and Coran know, just so they could all keep an eye on her until the wedding.

At the close of their meeting, Ezor dragged Acxa away for other duties, and likewise Lance and Keith headed back to Lance’s rooms so he could get ready for his night out. Hunk had left them a light dinner as well as a note detailing their meeting place. They still had a few vargas to kill, so both of them settled in Lance’s sitting room, Keith watching the soap opera he’d become hooked on while Lance picked up a novel from his shelf and read a few chapters of the well-worn tome.

Lance eventually excused himself to go change, and Keith waited patiently. He’d thought Lance’s ensemble appropriate enough for the club, but apparently it wasn’t to his taste. When he returned a few dobashes later, Keith averted his eyes.

Lance laughed. “I thought about wearing this earlier, but I just wanted to annoy Acxa, not to give her a heart attack.”

Keith chanced a glance. It certainly was… something. Where before his immodest dress had been downplayed by a cloak as well as subdued colors, this was much more revealing and over the top. It reminded Keith that Lance was young—Coran’s original file reported that he didn’t even have twenty earth years. Keith was less than a year older than him, but he could admit that his childhood, his formative years, were far from normal. Never had he been one for clubbing or even just having fun with his friends. He’d always been working, and even when he’d gotten closer to people, the amount of free time they had was limited. Most of their missions were nowhere near as relaxed as the one at present.

“You look nice,” he supplied. Lance smiled.

“I wasn’t looking for nice,” he said. “More like naughty.”

“Well, I’d say you succeeded.”

Lance slumped on the couch next to Keith, much too close. Something about him smelled… different. “What’s that smell?” Keith asked.

He giggled. “It’s a weird drug they use here, perhaps you’ve heard of it? Refreshes the user, and even amps up their pheromones. It’s nice, I won’t even have to use any perfume! Do you like the smell?”

Keith nodded.

“You’re a flatterer,” Lance waved his hand. “Guess we’re closer friends than I thought.”

“Where’d you get this drug?”

“Oh, don’t be paranoid—all the wealthy people here use it. It keeps you up, focused. I use it when I’ve got a long night ahead of me.” He patted a spot over his chest—was there a pocket there, or something? Keith couldn’t tell. “Let me know if you need a bit of a pick-me-up anytime tonight.”

“So what’s the plan? It’s still light out.”

“And?”

“You intend to go through the palace looking like that?”

Lance crossed his long, very exposed leg over the other. “Like what?” he smirked.

“Not very much like a future prince.”

He snorted. “Not a prince, maybe, but very much like a consort, which is all I am, in essence.” He leaned against the cushions, crossing his arms. “I’m nothing more than a pretty face, after all. May as well flaunt it while I still can.”

Keith wasn’t sure what to say to that, so he remained silent.

“People know who I am—what I am to Lotor. Most of the people who opposed the thought of their prince marrying a human changed their mind when they saw me, as if my looks explained it all away,” he scoffed. “It’s all I’ve got going for me, and I’ve accepted that. I work hard to look nice, to please him. Why can’t I show it off?”

“I never said you couldn’t,” Keith defended. “I just… Lotor would disapprove of you going out drinking looking so nice, didn’t you say that?”

“Of course, he’d be livid,” he smiled. “But, jealous Lotor can be nice, too. At least then he actually pays attention to me.”

Is that why he was acting like this? To get a reaction from Lotor? Keith wasn’t sure he could ever come to understand their dynamic.

“Anyway,” Lance continued. “Hunk will swing by the room and we’ll sneak out through the kitchens in his van. Same as always.”

“You go out often then?”

“Oh, not so much, maybe once every other sevten, if that. I’m not the partier I once was, I’ll admit. Lotor hardly lets me have a glass of wine at dinner.”

God, Keith thought, he looked like a kicked puppy. It was his job to protect Lance of course, but he didn’t think he’d actually start _feeling_ so protective of him—not just his physical well-being, either. A sad Lance was a Lance he wanted gone; he didn’t deserve it.

He would stop at nothing, then, to put a smile back on Lance’s face, even if it meant putting up with his and his friends’ drunken shenanigans. How bad could they be, anyway?

 

* * *

 

The answer, in a word, was horrible.

He expected Lance to get shit-faced—the whole thing was for him, after all.

Given Pidge’s age and size, he wasn’t surprised when she was slurring only a handful of drinks in.

He’d thought he’d found an ally in Hunk, who seemed completely levelheaded in the first few vargas, barely sipping at his drink and consuming more water than alcohol.

Keith excused himself for the bathroom for _four damn dobashes_ , and returned to a shit-show. Lance was crying, Pidge and Hunk were making out, and someone he’d never seen before was trying to force herself into the booth and capture Lance’s attention.

“Quiznak,” Keith cursed, brushing the girl aside to sit next to Lance. “Are you alright?”

“I just… I love my friends so much?” he whined. “They’re so good to me!”

Pidge and Hunk parted to regard their friend. “Dude, what?” Hunk said.

“What the hell are you two doing?” Keith yelled. He’d had no idea they were together.

“Oh, I dared Hunk to makeout with me,” Pidge explained.

“And you agreed?” Keith asked.

Hunk stared at him—more like glared. “Man… you’ve got one sick mullet!” he laughed before slumping over toward Pidge.

“Get off me!” she yelled, pushing against him. “How much of that shit did you take?”

“Way too much, my dude,” he said. He stared at a wall. “This shit is wavy.”

“You’re high?” Keith felt more than heard his voice crack, the club music was too loud.

Lance slapped Keith’s shoulder, his tears having dried. “Hunk’s been high this whole time, man.”

“What?”

“That’s why he wasn’t drinking,” Pidge explained. “Crossed Hunk is not a good Hunk for public consumption.”

“I’m the only sober one?”

“Hey, I’m mad sober!” Pidge said, pointing an accusing finger toward Keith. “Watch this!” She stood, slipping out of the booth. She promptly latched onto the table, her face pained. “Wait, oh shit. Spins!”

Lance turned. “Tims is here?”

“She said ‘spins’, Lancey Lance,” Hunk supplied, staring intently at the swirling liquid in his cup. “Tims doesn’t like clubbing.”

Lance nodded, face somber. “A shame. He’s got an ass that just won’t quit. If only he’d shake it more.”

Pidge, too, frowned. “Amen.”

The trio shared a somber, mournful moment. Hunk broke the silence. “So, shots?”

“Hell yeah!” Lance cheered. He waved over the nearest waitress with an obnoxious shout.

“Shots?” Keith cried. “You’re all clearly done.”

“Huh?” Pidge sat back down. “This is only our first stop, silly! The pregame, if you will.”

“Yeah, we haven’t danced, Hunk hasn’t tried to seduce a chair, Pidge hasn’t vommed… we’re just getting started.”

“Are you kidding me? I have to take care of all three of your drunk slash high asses?”

“On the nose, man,” Hunk smiled.

Lance tapped him on the arm. Keith looked down, seeing a vial of pink powder. “What’s this?” he asked.

“You’ll need to be attentive, right? This is what I had back in the room.”

“Ooh, shit,” Pidge eyed the powder. “That’s pink, man. Real pink.”

“Only the good stuff for me, these days,” he smirked. “Perks of fucking the prince, I guess—good drugs.”

“Does Lotor do drugs?” Keith asked.

Lance laughed. “I fucking wish—maybe then he’d be less uptight.” He leaned against Keith. “Between you and me, I think he could use some Swish in his life.”

Pidge snorted while Hunk nearly choked on his sip of water.

“What’s Swish?”

“An aphrodisiac, of sorts,” Pidge explained. “Why don’t you just try to keep it in your pants, Lance?”

He whined. “I have needs, you know!”

Hunk didn’t seem as swayed by Lance’s anguished tone. “Then leave him.”

Lance gave a hard look in response. “You know it’s not that simple.”

“I don’t get you, Lance,” Hunk said. “You’re not happy, you’re not even you when you’re with him! The only reason—“

“I think that’s enough, Hunk,” he spat. “We’re not alone, after all.” Their server arrived, then, and Lance smiled brightly at her. “Six shots of your cheapest liquor, if you please,” he handed her a large bill with a wink. She giggled, taking the money before turning and heading toward the bar.

Keith watched her return, the liquor breaking the previous tension among the friends. They each took their two shots, though he thoroughly believed none of them needed more to drink—he wondered what they’d had while he was gone.

Suddenly, Lance rose, slamming his hands down on the table. “Alright, time for the next stop! No open tabs here, right?”

“Nah, we good,” Hunk smiled.

“Real good,” Pidge gave her own, crooked grin.

Keith was forced to navigate them to their next location, and to the next. He tried his best, he truly did, to reign them in, but they were unstoppable. Pidge would get lost on the dance floor and force Keith to look out for her, and by the time he got back to Lance and Hunk, they’d be smoking some strange pipe from a complete stranger. In the time it took him to get them away from the leering men, Pidge was standing on the bar, challenging anyone who dared look at her to a fist fight. At least then Lance and Hunk were with her, goading her to fight the poor man who was sitting at the bar trying to watch something on the television above the bartender. Then, Lance declared that bar boring and they headed out. Keith hoped it wasn’t for another bar, and it seemed his prayers were finally being answered when they dragged him toward a road filled with food trucks. Hunk sped towards a bright yellow van, determination in his reddened eyes, while the rest followed at a more leisurely pace.

It was late, even for the food trucks, so the lines weren’t too long. Hunk got enough food for him and Pidge—Lance explained that he wasn’t hungry. They found a bench and sat down to eat. Keith moved to follow their example, but Lance tugged at his sleeve.

“What’s wrong?” Keith asked.

“I don’t feel well,” he explained.

“Well, maybe taking two body shots from those bachelorettes wasn’t the best idea,” Keith chided.

He only pouted. “Keeeiiithhh…” he whined. “I think I need to throw up.”

Keith surveyed the area. There were a number of alleys where he could do just that, bushes too. “Fine. This way.” Lance’s arm was still on his, so he led him toward a more secluded spot where he could do his business.

Lance was coherent enough to understand, at least, as he dislodged himself from Keith’s arm as they neared the alley, hunching over just past a large dumpster. Keith turned, giving him his privacy.

It took a minute, but finally, he heard a wretch. After that, Lance seemed to have no trouble ridding himself of that night’s poor decisions. He spat out any remaining bile at the end, and Keith turned.

He rose a bit unsteadily, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before flinging his hand down to ride himself of the excess spittle. He smiled, a bit sheepish but every bit as charming as ever.

It was a stupid face he pulled; his eyes betrayed the fact that he was high, his swaying the fact that he was drunk. He was smiling, but it wasn’t his usual, rehearsed look that flattered his face. Instead, his grin was too wide, a bit scary, honestly. But it was genuine, unafraid of judgment from anyone who might see. His clothes were a bit dirtied from a number of falls he’d convinced himself he’d hidden from Keith, hair and makeup a mess from how much sweat he worked up on the dance floor. There was a bit of puke left on Lance’s chin, his shoes, too.

Keith had never seen anyone more beautiful.

“Fuck…” he muttered to himself.

Lance whirled a bit too quickly, nearly stumbling. “What’d you say?”

“Nothing.” Keith reached out, helping him steady himself so they could leave the alley. Why would his feelings become so apparent then, he wondered, it was hardly a romantic moment. If it had been literally any other time he could bring himself to understand why.

They walked back to Pidge and Hunk’s bench, Lance leaning heavily against Keith’s side and whining for sleep.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Pidge commented with a smirk. She nudged Hunk, whose eyes had been closed. He blinked, taking in Keith and Lance.

“Aw, that’s cute,” he smiled. “Wait, I thought he knew.”

“Nope, he’s an idiot.”

“What the hell are you on about?”

“He doesn’t even know!” she gasped.

“Adorable,” Hunk continued.

“You should take him home—to his apartment. Lance?”

“Huh?” he roused slightly.

“You good to direct Keith to your apartment?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m not that bad.”

“Did he make himself throw up?” Hunk asked.

Keith wasn’t sure, to be honest. He’d thought it had happened on its own. “He did throw up, I know.”

“Typical,” Pidge chuckled. “Well, he should be alright. When you get him home, give him some water. I doubt there’s any food there, but drunk Lance has a weak stomach, anyway.”

“It’s a shady neighborhood, so be careful,” Hunk advised.

Keith shook his arm, catching Lance’s attention.

“What?” he said.

“Ready for bed?”

“Gods, yes.”

“You’ll have to lead the way.”

“Okay…” he squinted, taking in the trucks. “Right there, past that little fountain thing… we have to go down that road. It’s not too far, at least.”

“Got it,” he rose, hoisting Lance up as well.

“Bye friends!” Lance grinned, waving madly.

“Set your alarm so you can come in with the morning shipment!” Hunk called after Keith’s retreating back. “It’s the only way back in!”

“Yeah yeah yeah,” he replied. He nestled himself closer against Keith’s side. “I’m too tired to walk.”

Keith sighed, stopping in the path. “Do you want me to carry you?”

“Yes!” Lance bounced on the balls of feet, clearly having enough energy to walk. Still, Keith didn’t say anything, he simply turned, lowered himself slightly, and braced for Lance’s clumsy jump onto his back. He grabbed Lance by his legs—don’t think about how easily you can wrap your hand around them, he chanted in his head, or about how warm they arm—and continued. Lance pointed vaguely every few ticks, but otherwise he was unresponsive, only humming an unrecognizable tune.

Finally, he pulled at Keith’s hair, apparently his signal to stop as he slid from Keith’s back and headed toward a shabby building. He placed his hand on the door sensor, almost falling inside the moment the metal door swung inward.

Keith rushed to catch him, but someone else beat him to the punch.

A man whistled low. “Shit, Lance, haven’t seen you in forever! And drunk at that,” he laughed, a hearty sound that shook the gills on his neck.

“Blitzy-blatz!” he cheered, throwing his arms around the man. “What is up my man?”

Another barking laugh. “Hunk and Pidge take you out again, huh?” he looked up, noticing Keith. His easy smile fell, replaced with a glare. “And who’s this?”

He cleared his throat. “Hello, I’m Keith. I’m—“

“My new friend!” Lance supplied. “Lotor hired him to tutor me. I dragged him along for the evening, though.”

Keith eyed him and decided to go with his story. He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to lie—wasn’t he friends with this man?

“Is that right?” he looked Keith up and down. “Doesn’t look much like a tutor.”

“Stop being paranoid, Blaytz,” Lance rolled his eyes. “Come on, Keith, I’m tired.”

Keith followed after him, nodding at Blaytz in passing. He didn’t seem impressed.

They made their way to a cramped stairwell, Lance still leading the way. He only tripped once, so Keith let him carry on by himself. They exited on the fourth floor, and Lance stuck his palm against the door just across from the exit.

“Who was that guy?” Keith asked. The screen flashed red, Lance having pulled away too quickly. Pouting, he tried again. This time, it turned green, and the door slid open with a loud groan.

“Landlord. He’s just overprotective, is all.”

“Why’d you lie to him?”

“I don’t want him thinking I’m in danger enough for a bodyguard.” The light flickered on automatically, revealing an impressively unkempt front room. It wasn’t dirty, just messy from the sheer number of clothes and items tossed about.

“Is it really that odd? You are to marry Lotor, after all.” Keith was careful not to step on anything. He stopped in front of the couch, figuring he’d be wise to tidy up his bed for the evening.

“I’m sure he’s firmly of the belief that only a fool would attack the royal family, as we all were.” Lance slumped down on a plush chair, not minding the clothes beneath him.

“He didn’t seem to buy your story,” Keith said.

“Oh, that’s probably because he figured you were a lover, not a tutor. Before I met Lotor I wasn’t the most committed dater.”

“I see.”

“He was probably hoping I’d been dumped, or something.”

“It doesn’t seem like a lot of people are very supportive of you and Lotor.”

He scoffed. “Don’t remind me.”

“But… you love him, right?” Keith asked.

Lance caught his eyes, gaze softening. Keith smiled, and Lance returned it.

“Of course I do. I’m marrying him aren’t I?” He hopped off the seat, grabbing the bottom of his shirt. Tearing it off, he tossed it across the room. “I’m gonna shower!”

Keith reached out to him, taking his arm. “You’re too drunk, you’ll hurt yourself.”

“I’m not a baby,” he teased. “If you’re really so worried, why don’t you join me?”

He flushed. “What?”

Lance laughed. “You should see your face! I’ll be fine, I swear. Throwing up really did me some good.”

“Well, if you insist. Make it quick though—but not too quick,” he amended. “I don’t want you slipping.”

“Don’t worry, this shower’s barely big enough for me, so there’s not much room for falling.” He shimmied out of his shorts, tossing them towards Keith who was able to dodge before continuing to the bathroom.

While he showered, Keith decided to see to getting him some water. The kitchenette looked like it had been ransacked, the cupboards were open and barren. Luckily, there was a stray coffee mug left in the sink, which Keith rinsed out before filling it with cold tap water. He’d have to make sure Lance had more than just that small mug full, he knew, but it was a start.

He sat back on his couch, placing the mug on a table beside him. The cup featured a pretty picture of a beach as well as some words in Spanish that he couldn’t read. Among them, he was able to recognize “Varadero” well enough.

Looking around the room, he again was struck by how human it was. It was so unlike the palace rooms, even different from his room—he was always neat. It reminded him of a home, perhaps not the home of a responsible family, more like that of a slovenly college student. He wondered where Lance would be if his family hadn’t left Cuba, or if they’d stayed on Earth. What a different life he would’ve led, surely, his biggest worries being tests or which bar to go to after a football game as opposed to murder plots against his fiancé.

A few dobashes into his musing, he heard the water stop. Not much later, Lance emerged from the bathroom, rubbing a towel over his hair and with a fluffy robe wrapped around his body. His legs, too, were covered by matching bottoms, and fluffy cat slippers finished the look. He approached Keith, accepting the offered water with a smile after tossing his towel over the back of an armchair.

“I didn’t die,” he said. His voice sounded strained, the vargas of singing and yelling with his friends surely catching up to him.

“I’m glad,” Keith said.

Lance fell next to him, propping his feet up on his lap while he reclined heavily against the arm of the couch. “I’m exhausted, honestly.”

“What time do we have to get up tomorrow?”

“Too damn early.”

“You should get to bed, then.”

He frowned. “I’d rather talk. This is nice, being back here. And you’re here, too, which makes it even better!” He sipped his water. “Thanks for putting up with all of us, by the way. I’m sure it was annoying. I know Lotor would’ve—“

“Can we not talk about Lotor?” Keith snapped. Lance tensed. “I’m sorry, that came out harsher than I intended. It’s just… sometimes your smile is just… off, you know? And it was perfect all night, except for the times when Lotor was brought up, and Hunk brought you out to cheer you up, right? So, I’d probably get in trouble if I let you go to bed sad,” he rambled.

Lance beamed. “You’re right. I have lots of faith in you, Keith, but an angry Hunk is someone even you wouldn’t be able to handle.”

“I’ll take your word for it. Tell me more about your landlord, then.”

“Oh, sure! Well, we met soon after I landed in the capitol. I was slumming it, staying at whatever park or bench I could find. I was eating outside of the place he used to work at when he bumped into me outside. He’s a royal flirt, even more than me, if you believe it! And he spoke English, so I was hooked. He bought me some food, offered me a place to stay. It was real nice of him. Of course, I figured he was in it for something, and I knew I didn’t have enough money to pay him.”

“He didn’t…”

Lance shook his head. “Oh no! He didn’t use me in any way—he was just a genuinely nice guy. He’s not from here, obviously, but his husband is. He used to be a slave in the palace, back when Zarkon was alive. Apparently Blaytz had been a pretty important diplomat from his planet, since he often dined with the likes of Zarkon and King Alfor. That’s how they met—isn’t that cute? An upperclass elite falling for someone society had cast away?

“After slavery was abolished, they got married—well, officially, I suppose. Blaytz decided to move here permanently and used his wealth to help struggling freed people get on their feet. Then he ended up just helping a lot more people, and I was one of them.

“I was crashing with them when I met Hunk and Pidge who, as I’ve mentioned, got me some odd jobs, tending bar, cleaning, dancing, whatever.”

“Dancing?” Keith sputtered. “You mean…”

Lance laughed. “That’s right! Tonight was just a small sample of the moves I’ve got,” he slurped the rest of his water. “I met a lot of people working, but most of them were nowhere near as nice at Blaytz.” He frowned, staring into his mug. Shaking his head, he gave a weary smile. “But, I made it through, I suppose, and now, here I am.”

“Here you are,” Keith repeated. He hoped the words sounded more optimistic than they’d felt.

Lance sighed, stretching out his legs. “I know it’s not the happiest story, but it’s not over yet, you know. I can still get my storybook ending, can’t I? I mean, I’m marrying a prince, who spoils me— _me_ , someone who started out on this planet with nothing. Who _was_ nothing, for a time. Man, if Lotor’s rivals knew about some of the things I did… well, if _he_ ever knew, he probably wouldn’t love me, surely.”

“Lance…” Keith began. “You know that you’re completely deserving of love, of a huge, burning kind like in cheesy romance novels, right? Even with your past, whatever it is you’ve done, all of you can have that storybook ending you want.”

His brows furrowed. “It’s just… I don’t know. I guess I’m happy? I mean, I should be, shouldn’t I? I love Lotor, he loves me, we’ll never want for anything in our lives. I can support my friends, the people of Daibazaal. Lotor is quick to forget about certain groups, the poor, the immigrants. But, I can be a voice for them, I can help them through him. If I marry him, I can actually have a purpose, something I can do!

“I’ve never been good at things, you know. I wasn’t all that smart in school, I’m not the most athletic. I’m not very brave, either. My mama always said all I was good for was looking pretty. And she was right. I know I only got to this point because of how I look. I use that, I know, I lay it on thick with the makeup and the words and how I carry myself. If I wasn’t marrying Lotor I’d be marrying some other rich person, most likely, a pretty little pity project for them.”

He shook his head. “This is the path I’ve chosen, and I don’t regret it. I know what will happen if I go down it, and it could bring about so much good for people. But…”

“You’re not really happy,” Keith supplied. “Are you?”

He set the mug on the end-table. Removing his legs from Keith’s lap, he stood. “This may be the only good I’m capable of doing in my life—how could I be so selfish, to not go through with it? Without this, I’ll be on my own again, I’ll be nothing.”

Keith was on his feet in seconds, his arms securing themselves around Lance’s hunched shoulders soon after. “Stop saying those things. You’re not nothing, Lance. You’re so much more than your looks. Anyone can see that. Hell, I’ve only known you for a few sevtens and I consider you to be one of the kindest people I’ve ever met. Your spirit is captivating. Even now, you think you’re being selfish, when it’s clear that you have the heart of a martyr. It’s great that you want to help people, but you don’t have to sacrifice your own happiness to do it.”

Lance’s shoulder shook. He gave a weak, watery laugh. “They’re not paying you to be my psychiatrist, you know.”

“I’ll put it in my expense report when this is over.”

“Over?” Lance pulled back, looking up at Keith. “When will that be, do you think?”

“Hopefully soon.”

He pouted. “Then you’ll leave me?”

“Would you prefer the threat remain indefinitely?”

“If it means you get to stick around, then yes,” he grinned, still a bit goofy from the drink.

This man was dangerous, Keith thought to himself. It was no surprise someone as rigid and formal as Lotor, even, snatched him up on first sight. “I’ll be around until I think you’re safe enough on your own.”

“I’ve been told that I’m the biggest threat to myself, you know,” he teased. “What then?”

“Then I may have to stick around. For your sake.”

“Of course,” he hummed. He slipped his arms under Keith’s own, bringing them up till they rested on either side of his neck. “I’ve gotten used to having you around. I couldn’t even imagine life in the castle without you there.” He sighed, looking to the side. “But, you’re still a cowboy at heart, aren’t you? I’m sure I couldn’t persuade you to give up your life of adventuring through the known universe.”

Keith’s arms loosened and fell, resting around Lance’s waist. “It would require a pretty compelling argument.”

“Oh, do you doubt my abilities?” he chuckled, turning back to face Keith. His hooded eyes shone in amusement, a cocky smirk on his face.

Keith swallowed thickly, suddenly aware of their position, of the tense air surrounding them. He cleared his throat. “Do you have some hidden debate skills I’ve never encountered?”

“I have a lot of skills you haven’t encountered,” he practically purred, inching closer.

“Is that right?”

“Mm-hmm,” he pressed even closer. It was so warm—too warm, Keith thought. “I suppose then the only way to find out—find all of me out, is to stick around.”

Was he being serious? Was he coming onto him? Or was he just doing his usual flirting? Hadn’t he just said he loved Lotor? Enough to want to marry him?

“Of course,” Lance continued. “I don’t usually pay my friends. You’ll have to get to know me when you’re no longer working for my husband.”

His uttering of “husband” broke the spell. “As friends, then.”

Lance’s smile faltered for a second. “That’s right. Unless you’d prefer some post in the castle.”

“I’ll be happy to visit, when this is all over. But, my duties with Coran… I can’t stay in one place for so long.”

Lance frowned, pushing away even more. “Oh, that’s fine. I’ll just sit here, looking forward to your yearly visits, I suppose. Growing old.” He broke from Keith’s hold, pushing past him to the kitchen.

“What do you want me to say? That I’ll throw away my whole way of life for your friendship?”

“Yes!” Lance yelled. He angrily shoved his mug under the sink, glaring as it filled with water. “You can’t say such nice things to me, look at me the way you do, and then just say you’re going to leave!”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you obviously like me, I’m not an idiot.”

“And what, you intend to dangle yourself in front of me while your husband stands by?”

“Well… no,” he huffed. He took a hefty gulp of his water, refusing to meet Keith’s eye.

“I wouldn’t stay, Lance, I’m sorry. Not for your friendship. You mean a lot to me—it’s been such a short time, but I can’t think of not waking up to meet you everyday, as weird as it sounds.”

“It’s not weird—“

“But, I don’t want you keeping me at arm’s length, if that’s all you want of me. My  _friendship_. I enjoy spending time with you, Lance, but it’s hard. Now that I know… how I feel… it’s even harder.”

“What do you mean?”

“What do you mean ‘what do I mean’? You said it yourself! I like you!”

Lance finally looked him in the eye, confusion evident in his features. Seconds later, it seemed to click, and his mouth fell open. “Oh… you like me in that way.”

“Wait—“ Keith faltered. “What did you think?”

“I thought… I thought you just liked me as a peer! Past just my looks…”

“I do!”

“But beyond just friends, too.”

Keith turned away, crossing his arms. “Is that a problem?”

“Of course it is! I mean, I’m getting married, Keith!”

He slumped forward, forehead meeting the cool fridge door. This was a mess—he was a mess.

Lance took a step toward him, placing a hand on his back. “I didn’t think you the type to fall for my flirting honestly,” he chuckled. Was he making fun of him now? Keith thought bitterly. “Hunk told me not to lay it on too thick, but I never listen. Especially since a big part of me wanted you to fall for me.”

“Why?” Keith asked. Was he really so cruel? To play with his heart like that?

“Because I like you too. As more than friends.”

“What?” he asked, turning to look at Lance, who looked pained.

“How could I not? From the very beginning you saw past the show I put on for Lotor, for everyone—for myself, even. And you never treated me as less for it. You’re sweet, and funny—sometimes,” he laughed. “You make me happy, happier than I’ve been for a long time.”

They stared for a few seconds, smiling softly. Then, Lance’s face fell. He sobbed, pressing his palms against his eyes. “Even now, you’re looking at me like I’m so special, but here I am, a man who wants nothing more than to kiss you while my fiancé is miles away, unaware.”

Keith grabbed his wrists, pulling them away from his face. Lance’s tears were flowing freely, he hiccupped as he cried. “You want to kiss me?” he asked.

“That’s all you got from that?” he laughed then sniffed. “Of course I do.”

“Then do it.”

“I can’t… it’s not just about Lotor. I need to be in the castle, I just have to!”

“You think you can only help others if you’re a prince?” Lance nodded meekly. “Well you’re wrong.”

“I don’t know…”

“Trust me, Lance. I see you, the real you, not whoever it is Lotor thinks you are. You can do anything you want.”

“I can?”

“Yes.”

“So I can kiss you?”

“Whenever you want.”

“How about right now?”

Keith nodded.

Lance took a tentative half-step forward. Keith was still holding his arms—perhaps too tightly, but neither seemed to mind. Finally, he pressed his lips to Keith’s, softly, as if he was afraid too much pressure would chase him away.

Keith responded quickly, pulling Lance closer and tilting his head so they could deepen their embrace.

It was sweet, but too short, in Keith’s opinion. Seconds later, Lance was gone, like a dream. Keith opened his eyes, seeing a smiling Lance. He was still crying.

“We should get to bed, don’t you think?” he asked.

So soon? Keith thought. Bold, but expected of Lance.

“The couch is pretty comfortable, so I don’t want to hear any complaints from you!”

Oh. He chuckled. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“I’m sorry, Keith. You probably think I was just leading you on or something. But, there are things going on, bigger than the both of us. I wish I could explain myself…”

“You don’t have to.” Keith brought him in for a hug, pressing his lips against the top of his head. “For now, as long as I can be close to you, I’ll be happy.”

Lance took a deep breath. He wrapped his arms around Keith’s back, squeezing. Drawing back, he beamed. “Goodnight, Keith.”

“Goodnight.” As Lance pulled away, Keith kept a hold on his hand, keeping them connected till Lance was too far for it. He dropped his hand. “Lance,” he said just as Lance stepped into the front room.

He looked back, raising a brow. His too-large robe had slipped open slightly during it all, his tan chest making an appearance.

The words were caught in Keith’s throat as his eyes fixated on a spot on Lance’s skin. He followed the dark mark upwards, to his neck—how had he not seen that? Surely that part of him had been exposed during the night.

“What?” Lance asked.

Keith’s eyes snapped upward. He’d forgotten his original thought, and instead he blurted out. “Are those bruises?”

Lance’s hands flew to his robe, drawing it closed. Even then, purple poked out over the collar. “They’re nothing.”

Keith wasn’t having that. He marched forward. When Lance shirked back, he stopped, not wanting to scare him. “They’re not nothing. Why do you have bruises there?”

“I have a fiancé, Keith, we do things.”

“Those aren’t just hickeys,” he said. “What did he do to you?”

“Nothing, he didn’t do a thing! It’s just… how he treats people. He’s rough; it’s fine.”

He supposed it wasn’t any of his business what they did in the bedroom, but the far-off look in Lance’s eyes made him curious. He knew of course that they’d spent the previous night together, he assumed that meant they’d had sex. Given how affectionate both were in the morning, it made sense. Everyone could see some kind of connection.

The way Hunk reacted, though… He’d been furious, hadn’t he? Told him that Lance was being reckless, that he needed some sense talked into him.

That Lotor had been the problem.

But Lance had seemed so happy that morning, all lofty sighs and googly eyes.

He craves Lotor’s attention, Keith reminded himself. Even if he has to pretend for him to get it. Even if he has to put up with things he doesn’t like.

“Is that… what you want?”

“Huh?” Lance asked.

“For him to treat you roughly? Do you consent to that, when you’re together?”

“Of course—he’s my fiancé. He likes it, so,” he shrugged. “It’s not as bad as it could be, honestly, since we don’t sleep together often.”

“But when you do, he forces himself on you?”

“No!” Lance insisted. “I mean… it’s not what I want, really. But back when I danced for people, I had some nasty clients, you know, they were much worse!”

“That doesn’t make what he does any better.”

“Haven’t we had enough deep conversations for the night? I’m tired.”

And he did look weary, Keith could admit. Both of them probably needed to sleep. As it was, Keith was probably growing too heated to have a reasonable conversation with Lance at the moment, not without saying something he might regret.

“Fine. But we’re going to talk about this, alright?”

Lance pouted. “Fine.”

“You don’t deserve to be treated like this, Lance. You know that, right? Lotor isn’t loving you the way someone should.”

“I… I know,” his frown deepened. “Goodnight.”

“Good—“ Lance was already gone.

With a sigh, he made his way to his spot on the couch. He fell forward, head in his hands. Just what kind of mission was this? He had the worst luck. Shiro had told him he had something of a savior complex, but given the situation, how could he _not_ want to get Lance as far away from Lotor as possible? The people of Galra be damned, he didn’t have to subject himself to a life of… of abuse to protect them from Lotor’s wrath!

He fell back, kicking his legs up on the arm. It had been a long night, even without all the revelations. He was asleep in seconds.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey uh this is the mature bit

Keith woke before Lance, as expected. He scrounged together enough coffee grounds to make a half cup of weak coffee. It was horrible.

The sleep had calmed him down some, but looking back on the previous night, his blood was slowly starting to boil. It had started out so wonderfully: he’d finally realized his feelings for Lance in the alley—

He shook his head. Love didn’t work that way, he knew. He’d been so confused when his heart started racing in that moment—why not before? Why would his mind choose that time to fall for him, he’d thought, compared to all the other, more pleasant moments? But it wasn’t that one image, that single slice of time. It was all of them, compounding every time he saw Lance in any context. Pidge and Hunk had seen it, they could guess from how Keith treated him that he had feelings for Lance. That those feelings had been there all along, Keith had just failed to name them.

And the accidental confession—that had been embarrassing. But, Lance liked him, too? They kissed, even. When he woke, he thought it’d all been a dream. When he realized it had been real, his face started burning. He buried his face in his pillow, worried stray giggles would leak from his goofy grin.

But, it all had come to a tragic end. He wasn’t sure when it would be good for him to confront Lance about it, or even if he should. No, he had to. Lance couldn’t go on like that, it was unjust.

Usually when he was facing some kind of dilemma, he’d talk to Shiro about it. He winced just thinking about the verbal lashing he’d surely face if he told Shiro he’d gone and gotten himself involved with a mark. Talk about amateur hour.

“Good morning.” He turned, having failed to hear Lance get ready, apparently.

He smiled, and Lance returned the look. “Morning. You look nice.”

Lance scoffed, looking down at his outfit. “This old thing? Please, it’s nothing compared to my usual attire.”

It was true, the outfit was simple. A pair of blue jeans, sneakers, a white tee shirt, and a baggy green jacket. Vintage earth fashion, at its simplest. “It suits you.”

“Thanks,” he approached the small table, choosing the seat at Keith’s right. “You found coffee?”

“It’s honestly an insult to call it coffee, it’s terrible.”

Lance laughed. “Well, I haven’t exactly grocery shopped for a while, I admit.” He pat Keith’s shoulder, but his hand lingered, sliding down till it rested over Keith’s hand.

Keith turned his hand over, spreading his fingers so Lance’s could mingle with them. Lance sighed, a content smile on his face.

The outfit was conservative, but the collar was low enough that Keith could probably see the marks. He checked, but they were gone.

“Eyes up here, Keith.”

“Sorry… what’d you do to them?”

“It’s just makeup,” he squeezed Keith’s hand. “No black magic to worry about. Are we having our talk already?”

“You seem awfully lively. Aren’t you hungover?”

“Oh, I think I’m still a bit tipsy. It’s super early after all.”

Keith shook his head, laughing lightly. “I’m not surprised. We can wait on the talking.”

“Oh, thank god,” Lance blurted. “’Cause I was so not ready for that.”

“Just let me know when you are.”

“We have to head out soon.”

That was the last thing Keith wanted. Here, in Lance’s home, they could be honest with each other. They could express their feelings, they didn’t have to think about the future or Lance’s wedding or Lotor.

“And when we’re back… am I just supposed to forget everything that happened? Watch you, knowing that you care about me, that you kissed me… loving him?”

Lance frowned, tugging at his arm and drawing it to his chest. “Please don’t say things like that. I have to go on, too, kissing him, when I’d rather be kissing you.”

Was it selfish of him to ask him to leave Lotor? Or was it more selfish for Lance to have them both? He stood, and Lance copied his action.

“You said I can kiss you whenever, didn’t you?” Lance asked.

“I did.”

“Did you mean it?”

“Of course!”

“Then I’m going to kiss you again. And when we get back, I’m going to kiss you whenever we’re alone. And, for as long as you’ll have me, I’ll hold your hand and kiss you. Is that alright?”

“I never said you could hold my hand whenever,” he teased.

His small smirk faltered when Lance kissed him, hard and insistent. It was a desperate kiss, pleading and urging and knowing that they were pressed for time.

Keith’s hands cupped Lance’s face, thumbs stroking the soft skin he’d admired for so long. His hair was being pulled in a distracting manner, enough to elicit a gasp from him. Lance surged forward, his tongue slipping into Keith’s mouth with little regard for grace.

And it was clumsy, admittedly, but it was the most passionate kiss Keith had ever had. His hands slipped lower, pulling Lance’s body flush against his. Lance was the first to moan, and it was like a switch went off in Keith’s brain.

With a low grunt, he pulled Lance as he stepped backward toward the living room. When his legs met the couch, he grabbed the back of Lance’s legs, settling him on his lap as he fell.

Lance giggled, pulling away. He was panting lightly, face flush. “So eager, are we?”

“Yes,” Keith breathed, too impatient to tease back. He ran his hands over Lance’s thighs, squeezing every so often. As much as he liked seeing him dressed casually, it was a shame he was in such restrictive fabric.

Lance placed a hand on his cheek. Keith leaned against it, then placed his hand over it. He turned his face, placing a kiss to Lance’s palm. As far as he was concerned, every inch of Lance’s body needed to be worshiped. How Lotor could bring himself to mar him was beyond his comprehension. He kissed lower, then against his pulse.

“What are you doing?” Lance laughed. “My lips are up here.”

“I want to kiss every part of you.”

He laughed again but stopped on seeing Keith’s serious stare. It could only be described as hungry. He swallowed. “R-really?”

“I could spend a whole day studying your body, pleasing you, mapping every freckle, every scar, every sensitive spot.”

Lance whimpered, his legs spreading more in an effort to bring them closer. “What else would you do?”

“I’d do anything you wanted me to.” His hand slipped up, teasingly close to his cock. “You’d be in charge. Would you like that?”

“I’m surprised,” his breath was a bit uneven. He was clearly getting worked up, but he still had the gall to smirk. “I wouldn’t have pegged you as a gentle lover.”

Had Lance ever experienced a gentle lover? Surely he must have. “I bet you’re so much prettier when you’re being pleasured, if that’s even possible. Just thinking about you, hair messy, all sweaty, crying out by my hand.” Keith wasn’t much for talking in sexual situations, but with Lance, it just felt right.

“Oh my god…” Lance slumped forward, his head resting in the crook of Keith’s neck. His breath near his ear was hot. “You’re gonna kill me.”

“You were so beautiful last night, too, when you were dancing. The way you moved your body, I can see you moving like that on top of my—“

Before Keith could finish his thought, Lance claimed his lips. Their noses smashed together, but it was perfect. Keith placed one arm on Lance’s back, while his other finally cupped over his dick. Even through his jeans, he could feel his arousal.

Lance moaned—gods, Keith couldn’t help but buck at the sound. “God, you even sound perfect,” he managed to get out between kisses.

Lance whined, grinding against Keith’s palm. His hands were once again in Keith’s hair—he teased him every day about his hair, but he sure seemed to like it well enough—pulling with just the right amount of pressure. “Keith…” he breathed.

“Yes?”

“I need…” Keith applied more pressure and he pulled away, gasping. “More, please!”

He idly wondered if Lance knew that he could ask Keith to do just about anything, and he’d do it without question. His fingers fiddled with the button on Lance’s jeans, and he somehow managed to open them one-handed. The zipper went down easily, and Lance sighed at the freedom it offered his hardening dick.

“Touch me please.”

Keith took to the task with vigor. Lance threw his head back, biting his lip in an effort to dull his moans.

“I want to hear you,” Keith said.

He seemed hesitant, but with a squeeze from Keith’s hand, he couldn’t fight it any more. His mouth fell open, and he moaned loudly. “God, please. Can I take these stupid jeans off?”

Keith chuckled, lifting his hands so Lance could get off him. He was free of his pants and sneakers in seconds, an impressive feat given how tight they were. “Oh this is so much better.” He took up his rightful place on Keith’s lap, with only his small briefs covering his lower half. He shucked off his jacket, too, apparently feeling a bit overdressed.

Keith eyed the remaining t-shirt with some distaste—how dare it block the rest of Lance’s body from him. While one hand went back to rubbing Lance’s dick, the other slipped under his shirt, fingers ghosting over his taut abs. Lance shivered, and Keith’s hand crept upward, splaying over his pec and massaging it gently.

“Can I take your shirt off?” he asked.

“You’ve gotta take something off, too,” he pouted. “I’m like almost naked and you’re still in boots!”

He supposed he was. “Fine, fine, get off me then.”

“But I don’t wanna,” he whined.

“You’re insufferable,” he rolled his eyes. He removed both his hands, ignoring Lance’s pleas for a moment. He grabbed Lance by the legs, standing and wrapping them around him. Lance let out a soft “eep”, tightening his legs and throwing his arms around Keith’s neck. “Hold on,” Keith instructed. “I’m letting go.”

Lance crossed his ankles behind Keith’s back, looking on curiously. While Keith removed his jacket, Lance started working at unbuttoning his shirt, careful to keep his balance. He couldn’t reach the bottom buttons, so Keith took care of those before shrugging out of it, tossing it onto the couch behind him.

Cupping Lance’s ass, he walked them toward the bedroom, not wanting to go any further on the couch—Lance had praised it for its comfort, but Keith’s back was not thankful for it in the slightest. As he walked, Lance continued to rub his lower half against him, though he kept his sounds muffled, much to Keith’s displeasure.

He attempted to toss Lance onto the bed, but his legs’ grip was true. He managed to pull Keith down on top of him, then laughed at Keith’s flustered look. He grumbled, the position hardly conducive for their activities.

“Sorry,” he chuckled, relaxing his legs and letting Keith go. Keith straightened out then bent over to untie his boots. He took one off and nearly fell over while removing the second one. Finally, he undid his jeans, slipping them down over his hips. Lance wolf-whistled, and Keith flushed.

Free of all but his underwear, he knelt on the end of the bed. Lance was reclined against the pillows, seeming content to watch. Keith scooted forward, and Lance opened his legs. Keith grabbed one of them, drawing it close to his face. He pressed a kiss to the ankle bone, while Lance wriggled his foot.

“You’re so weird,” he laughed.

“I already told you I’d kiss every part of you, didn’t I?”

“Even my gross feet?”

“They’re your feet, so they’re gorgeous,” Keith said. Another kiss, this one just an inch higher. Lance giggled.

“If you have a foot fetish, just be up front about it.”

“I have a you fetish.”

He blushed, suddenly interested in the painting on his wall rather than Keith. “That’s not a thing.”

A third kiss, again higher. “It is.”

“You’re just silly.”

Keith shrugged. Lance’s leg rested on his shoulder, and he scooted forward. Lance didn’t seem to mind the stretch, and Keith’s dick was quite excited at that particular detail. “You’re so incredible.” A kiss. “I feel so lucky to see you like this.” A kiss. “Thank you.”

Lance covered his face with his hands, turning into the pillow. “You’re embarrassing me.”

“Do you not like it?” With his free hand, he rubbed over Lance’s dick. “You seem to like it.”

“Shut up!”

“Do you actually want me to?” he rested his cheek against Lance’s calf.

Lance peeked out from behind his fingers. “It’s just… you’re so sweet. I’m not used to it.”

“You should be. I can’t understand why people don’t praise you. They’re all idiots. You’re just, so good, Lance. Too good.” Was he talking too much? It just felt right, he was overflowing with compliments for Lance.

He swallowed. “Y-you can keep going.”

So he did. With each kiss, he doled out another compliment, and not just about his looks or his body. By the time he finished with his leg, he could tell that Lance was more than ready to move things forward, and he was too. He finally returned to Lance’s lips, his body falling on his. Lance’s legs wrapped around his back, and he bucked, rubbing their dicks together. Keith groaned into their kiss, pulling back to catch his breath.

“I want you,” Keith said.

“I want you too,” Lance panted. “Actually, I need you. Please, I want you inside me.”

“Do you have any lube?”

“Bedside table.”

As much as it pained him, Keith separated them, reaching over for the drawer. He rooted around, finding what he needed in seconds, as well as a condom.

“Do you want to use one?” he held it up for Lance to see.

“Are you clean?”

“Last I checked, yes. And I haven’t slept with anyone in years, so…”

“I’m clean. Do you mind if we don’t?”

“Not at all.” He tossed it back in the drawer then sat back on his feet between Lance’s legs. His eyes roamed up Lance’s body, finally landing on those damn boxers. They had to go. He grabbed the elastic, waiting for Lance to raise up his butt so he could pull them down. Once they were off, Keith finally took in all of Lance. He simply stared, perhaps a bit too long. Lance placed his foot against Keith’s chest, huffing.

“Well?”

“Sorry. I needed to catch my breath. You stole it.”

“Lines?” he cried out. “In bed? It’s too much! Now take off your ugly boxers.”

He frowned. “Ugly?”

“Come on, come on, get naked!”

“What’s wrong with my boxers?”

“Can we talk about this later?”

“Fine,” he grumbled. “But I’m gonna keep them on for a bit longer.”

“You make no sense.”

“I still have to prepare you.”

“Oh, right,” he flushed. “Well, continue, then.”

Rolling his eyes, he popped open the bottle. He squeezed a generous amount onto three of his fingers, surprised when it started warming within seconds. Scooting closer, he gave Lance’s dick a few firm pumps.

“Ah,” he whined. “I’m not gonna last long if you touch me while doing that, just so you know.”

“I don’t mind. Just being the one to get you off is enough for me, honestly.”

“Fuck…” Lance’s dick twitched at the comment. Lance clearly had a weakness for praise, it seemed; it was fortunate for him, then, that Keith was more than ready to indulge that interest.

He grabbed Lance by the back of the knee, pulling him toward him and upward. Resting Lance’s legs on his shoulders, he brought his finger to his hole, circling it for a few seconds. When he pressed his first finger in, Lance grunted.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry about me.” Keith felt bad, so he focused more on his dick, passing his thumb over the head with each stroke.

“Alright,” Lance sighed, pleasure far overpowering his initial discomfort. “I’m good. Put it in me.”

“Put what in you?”

“You know, your dick.”

“You’re hardly prepared.” Instead, he stuck his second finger in. Lance moaned as Keith wriggled them around.

“Oh, shit,” he said, grinding down against his digits. When they curled against his prostate, he cried out. “Fuck, right there!”

Keith would be happy bringing Lance to completion without once entering him—well, with his dick, that is. It would be easy, too, he was already so close.

“You’re so amazing, you know that?” Keith said, adding a third finger. “So good for me, so hard for me.”

“Yes,” he moaned. “Please, Keith, I need it.”

“Patience.”

He whined, throwing his head back. “Keith I swear to god—“

Before he could complete his protest, Keith fell forward, kissing his shaft.

“What are you—“ he looked down just in time to see Keith take all of him in his mouth. Keith’s fingers were still stretching him out, and the wet, heat around him was almost more than he could handle. He bucked lightly, chasing the heat, and when he fell, pleasure met him in another form. “Cristo,” he mumbled. He knew it wouldn’t be much longer.

Keith was in heaven, simply from pushing Lance to his limits and drawing all kinds of sounds from him. When Lance started speaking Spanish, then babbling complete nonsense, he almost came in his shorts. But, he was determined to see this through to the end, for Lance’s sake.

Lance’s grinding sped up, but he was still careful not to choke Keith. “Keith,” he panted. “I’m gonna come.”

Keith pulled off slightly, but he didn’t stop the blowjob. His fingers were now well-practiced at finding Lance’s prostate, so he applied more pressure to it.

With a cry, Lance came. Keith wasn’t put off by his cum, swallowing it down eagerly. He kept sucking for a few seconds till he was sure that Lance was sufficiently spent. He slid off with a lewd pop.

“Please fuck me,” Lance begged.

Keith was out of his shorts in an instant, dick lined up with Lance’s slicked hole. “Are you ready?”

“Hell yes!” he wiggled his ass.

Keith pressed in slowly, gauging Lance’s reaction. “Let me know if anything is too much.”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake—“ Lance began.

“Wha—“ he choked. Lance’s legs had wrapped around him once more, and forced him all the way in. They both moaned, Keith nearly overwhelmed by the tight, heat. He pulled out a few inches, then pushed back in. Lance’s hands clumsily fondled his chest, his neck, then grabbed his face and pulled him down for a searing kiss.

He thrust once more, swallowing each of Lance’s moans as they continued kissing. He started picking up the pace, Lance’s moans replaced with loud wails of his name. Encouraged, he pulled out more each time, slamming deeper into Lance.

He felt Lance’s legs under his armpits, and he paused. “What?” he asked—his voice sounded rough.

“Let me put them on your shoulders.” Keith spread his arms so Lance could do just that. Immediately he felt himself sink deeper, and he needed a second to compose himself. It was an impressive display of flexibility, as he pressed his torso forward in order to better kiss Lance while he fucked him.

Eventually, Keith couldn’t focus on both of his jobs, so his set his lips beside Lance’s ear as he pounded into him.

“You sound so beautiful,” he said. “I could stay inside you forever. God, you feel so good,” he panted.

“Kei—“ his utterance was interrupted by a loud cry. “Right there! Oh, god!”

Keith made sure his next thrusts hit their mark, Lance’s volume only increasing. The headboard knocked against the wall with each thrust, but they could barely hear it. Lance could still hear Keith’s words because he was right next to his ear, even though he was wailing without regard for the hour or his neighbors.

Keith could feel his end nearing, and he told Lance as much. He nodded, then he pushed Keith off of him.

He landed on his back, confused and desperate for release. “What are you—“

Lance straddled him, grabbing his dick and positioning it so he could sit on it. Keith immediately thrusted upward, letting his hands roam over Lance’s chest.

Lance set a quick pace, one hand using the headboard behind him as a balance while the other starting working his own dick.

Laying on his back, looking up at this beautiful man fucking himself on his dick, throat going raw from screaming, Keith felt like the luckiest man alive. Lance was so tight, so eager, so _perfect_. They were so in sync like this, setting the perfect rhythm. Lance’s body was incredible, bouncing in his lap as he thrust, coming together each time with a loud slap.

“Lance,” Keith said, his thrusting faltering. Lance sensed it, responding accordingly. He sped up his roll as well as his stroking.

“Together,” he instructed. “I’m close.”

“Me too…” his hands were on Lance’s hips, subtly controlling him as he neared his end. It was only a few more thrusts till he came, Lance’s name on his lips as he desperately clutched at his hips. Lance gave a strangled cry a few seconds after, coming for the second time that morning.

When Keith came down from his short high, he sat up, cradling Lance against him and pressing kiss after kiss against his cheeks, his forehead, his nose, his lips. Lance giggled at the treatment, looking completely wrecked.

He was even more beautiful than he’d imagined, curly hairs stuck to his forehead, lips raw from kissing, a lazy smile on them. Keith could stare at him all day. Instead, he kissed him again.

“That was incredible,” Lance said into the kiss.

“It was amazing,” Keith said. He opened his mouth, tongue searching for… well, he didn’t know what. Lance murmured happily, arms draping themselves over Keith’s shoulders. He shifted his weight, groaning as Keith’s softened cock shifted inside him. He pulled away, lifting himself off it, the sensation a bit uncomfortable.

Keith sat back and watched with rapt attention as his cum slid from Lance’s hole and down his leg.

“Yuck,” Lance said.

Keith reached forward, hands settling on Lance’s legs. “Sit up on your knees,” he said.

“Why?”

He tapped him lightly. “Just cause.”

“Fine,” he straightened out, his belly button level with Keith’s eyes.

Keith bent down, inching toward him. Lance just looked on, curious, but not stopping him.

He licked a long line up Lance’s inner thigh, cleaning him of his cum. Lance blushed.

“You don’t have to do that… Isn’t it gross?”

“I don’t mind,” he said, licking at a few stray drops before moving to the next leg.

“Alright, if you say so,” he rested a hand on Keith’s head.

Done with his thighs but not with all of the mess, Keith pushed Lance back into the pillows. He followed quickly, his tongue tracing the rim of Lance’s hole.

“Shit,” he said, legs tightening around Keith’s neck. “I’ve never—oh fuck!” Keith’s tongue was inside him, slowly circling and cleaning him out as best he could. Lance had thrown his arm over his eyes, groaning at the sensation against his sensitive walls.

Keith eventually sat up, licking his lips. “You’ll have to take a shower to get it all, of course, my tongue’s not that long.”

“I can’t move,” he said simply.

“Wait, really?” Keith asked.

Lance nodded. “I’m a jelly man now. You’ve fucked me into goo.”

Keith laid beside him, draping his arm over Lance’s torso. “You’re weak.”

He scoffed. “Was that the best sex you ever had? ‘Cause it was for me. Like, damn, if there was a Red Lobster around, I’d take your ass there.”

“Huh?”

“Classic music, man, Earth jams? You don’t know Beyoncé?”

“Oh, I’ve heard of her.”

“Heard of her?” he shouted, offended. “I wish I was alive when she was… I would’ve loved to go to one of her concerts! Or, you know, all of them.”

Keith snuggled closer to Lance’s chest, suddenly weary. “I’m tired,” he said.

“You’re tired? What about me! I’m dead!”

“How? I did all the work.”

Lance gasped. “How dare you!”

Chuckling, Keith tightened his hold “So much for your hidden talents, huh?”

“Oh, bad move, Keith. You’ll be regretting those words next time we’re alone.”

“Please, I had you completely under my spell.”

“And here I thought you were going to be so submissive! You started out saying you’d let me be in charge!”

“You seemed a bit too out of it to be in control. But, I did what you told me to, didn’t I?”

“I guess,” still, he was pouting. “We’ll see who’s in control next time. You used nice words against me—my one weakness!”

“Your ego?”

He tapped Keith’s cheek, a weak attempt at a chiding tap. “Can we get under the blanket?”

“Do we have time?”

“I’m not gonna sleep,” he insisted. “We’re just naked and sweaty and now it’s getting a bit chilly.

“Fine…” With a groan, Keith stood—his legs were a bit shaky. He grabbed the comforter on his half, lifting it till Lance’s body blocked him. “Move.”

He held out his hands. “Lift me!”

“No.”

“You did it earlier! And last night!” he stuck out his bottom lip, looking up at him like a kicked puppy. “Please?”

A loud sigh. “Fine.”

“Yay!”

Keith bent over the bed, sticking his arms under Lance’s knees and his back. He made a show of hoisting him up, as if it was any effort for him.

He dropped Lance in the middle of the bed, then grabbed the remaining half of the comforter and threw it over the both of them. Lance scooted closer, craving his warmth. His hands found Keith’s, tangling their fingers. They simply stared at each other, smiling shyly, as if they hadn’t been so intimate just minutes before.

There was a knock at the front door. They both froze. The familiar creak of the door opening followed.

“Lance?” It was Hunk, followed by Blaytz.

“Shit!” Lance said. He was sitting up, comforter pulled up over his chest. There was no escaping, no time to get dressed and act nonchalant.

“You’re super late, you know,” Hunk stepped into the living room, where he had a perfect view of the couple. “Oh… well… that’s uh…”

“What’s up?” Blaytz said, stepping behind him. He brightened on seeing the pair. “Good for you, Lance!”

“Oh my god, guys, shut up!”

Hunk approached, stopping in the doorway. He looked around the room shamelessly. “You guys missed the meeting time. I had to fake an important midday delivery.”

“Sorry, we got… whatever, we were fucking, clearly. When do we need to leave?” Lance asked.

“Get ready as quick as you can,” he said. “My van’s out front, then we gotta stop by a shop for some crawfish.”

“Alright.” Lance stared at him, but he didn’t move. “Hunk?”

“What?”

“Can you, uh, leave?”

“Why?”

“’Cause we’re both naked and need to get dressed?”

“Wait, really? Oh, shit! Okay, yeah, no problem. That’s my bad. I’ll just be… downstairs. Bye.” He gave an awkward wave then left, dragging an equally nosy Blaytz behind him.

Lance sighed, falling back. “I guess it’s good that it was them and not Pidge. I’d never hear the end of it from her.”

“He didn’t seem so upset.”

“Why would he?”

“I thought he might be mad at me for some reason.”

“Don’t be silly, he loves you. Also, he hates Lotor.”

Keith was glad Lance’s friends approved of them, even though it wasn’t under the best of circumstances. “Oh. Cool.”

“Alright, let’s get ready. Just get dressed. We can shower back in my room in you want.”

“Your room? Is that safe?”

“Sure, you’ve seen how little time I actually spend with Lotor. It’ll be easy.”

 

* * *

 

It was amazing just how easy it was, Keith thought. They carried on like any other couple in the palace for a whole week. Lotor had conveniently chosen to take a trip to the other side of the planet, which made things even easier, as Shiro and Coran had gone with him. They would snuggle up in Lance’s room, sometimes even in Keith’s if they were there and too lazy to move elsewhere. Lance had more than stepped up to their previous challenge, proving himself perfectly capable of being in control in the bedroom. Keith wasn’t complaining, of course, enjoying Lance in any capacity.

Even then, lazily making out on the couch in Keith’s living room, taking their time and not minding whether it went farther or not, they were filled with a bliss that surely anyone could see.

Keith lifted himself off Lance, just so he could look at him. Lance pouted, as he always did whenever they stopped kissing, and Keith chuckled.

“Sorry,” he said. “Just had to look at you again.”

He laughed. “You must have a horrid memory with how often you have to look at me.”

Keith didn’t respond, instead, he kissed him. Lance smiled, his arms snaking under the back of Keith’s shirt.

When the door slammed open, Keith’s head shot up. His eyes met Shiro’s, which were probably just as wide as his. Lance sat up, turning toward the source of the noise, and froze.

“What are you doing?” Shiro hissed. He looked down the hallway. “Lotor! I found them!” He turned back to them, still tangled together. “Put yourselves together!”

Keith rolled off Lance, turning on the TV so it would look like they were just hanging out. Lance, too, straightened out his clothes and his hair. They both sat on opposite sides of the couch, but Lance stood when Lotor appeared in the doorway.

“There you are,” Lotor said. “I was worried when you weren’t in your room. Isn’t it a bit late for TV?”

Lance laughed, “I’m not a little kid, Lotor. You’re back early. How was your trip?”

“Dreadfully boring. And the manor we stayed at was bleak. It reminded me of the castle before it was remodeled when I was a teenager,” he shuddered.

“Sounds miserable,” Lance said. Lotor stared, expectant. “Oh.” He slinked to Lotor’s front, setting his hands on his collar. “Sounds like you need some cheering up, then.”

Lotor smiled, placing a hand on Lance’s waist. “Did you miss me?”

“Of course,” he purred, batting his eyelashes. “Did you miss me?”

“More than anything.” Lotor leaned down to kiss Lance, but Lance turned, and the kiss landed on his cheek.

“Well, we have some time to catch up, don’t we?” he turned to Keith and waved. “Goodnight, Keith. Shiro,” he nodded in his direction.

The pair left the room, and Shiro shut the door behind them. He stared at Keith, emotions flashing across his face.

“Shiro, I—“

Shiro held up a finger, shutting him up. He pinched the bridge of his nose, then opened his mouth to speak. He stopped, shaking his head. Then, he stared some more.

Keith was growing uncomfortable under his disappointed gaze, but there was no escaping it, or what was to follow.

Finally, Shiro seemed to have a hold on his words. “What were you—“

“I’m in love with him,” he blurted out.

Shiro gaped, seeming stuck.

“I love him,” he said, confirming it to himself, even. He hadn’t said those words to Lance, never out loud. “And, he cares for me, too.”

Shiro fell onto the armchair, placing his head in his hands.

“I didn’t mean to… to fall for him. But, there was no stopping it, really, even though I knew it was a bad idea. I didn’t even mean to tell him, I would’ve just kept quiet, but he’s got a way of getting under your skin, of making you open up even when you don’t want to, and… he said he liked me, too. Lotor’s horrible to him, you know it. He hurts him—“ he froze. How could he have let Lance go so easily? What if Lotor hurt him again? His fists clenched in his lap. “He doesn’t treat him as anything more than a trophy, when he’s so much more than that. And Lance, he’s only marrying him so he can help the people, so he can sway Lotor to be a better king. He doesn’t love him, not truly. He’s so unhappy with him, but he’s still doing it because he wants to help people. How could I not want to help him?”

“What’s your plan, then, huh? You want to be his kept man when he gets married? Risk getting caught and probably killed by Lotor? And, you say he hurts him now, imagine if he found out! You and Lance are both putting yourselves in too much danger!”

“I don’t care what I have to do to be with him, I’ll do it!”

“What are you saying?”

“I didn’t think I would, before—want to stay in one place, that is. But, now I actually have him, I can’t leave. I won’t.”

Shiro stared at him, then sighed. “You’ll leave us then, just like that?”

“It’s not ‘just like that’… I’m twenty-years-old, Shiro. I can make my own decisions. It was going to happen eventually, you know. People grow up, and they leave their families.”

“For this? I just don’t see any way that you won’t end up hurt. You think he’s worth it? I thought you hated him.”

“I misjudged him, I’ll own up to that. He’s nothing like how he acts with Lotor, though. So far from it.”

“Surely he knows how reckless this is.”

“We know the risks. We’ll be more careful. We’d thought Lotor wouldn’t be back till tomorrow.”

“He wanted to come back early. Said he missed Lance. It’s apparently their one year anniversary tomorrow, and he wanted to celebrate it.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’,” Shiro crossed his arms. “You know I trust you, Keith. I respect your feelings, I know there’s no controlling who you fall in love with. But I don’t approve of this, I just can’t… not when it’s so dangerous for you.”

“I understand.”

“I’m going to bed. Are you going to be alright?”

“What?”

“You said that he hurts him when they’re together.”

“Yeah… I may go train.”

“Alright. Don’t push yourself too hard, okay?”

He nodded. “I’ll try.”

Shiro stood, crossing the few steps to stand in front of him. He placed a hand on his shoulder. “You know I love you, right?”

“I know.”

“And that I just want what’s best for you?”

“Yeah.”

“You understand, then, why I’m so worried.”

“Of course. It’s not a good situation, I know.”

“Alright. I just don’t want you mad at me, or anything.”

“It’s fine. Thanks for not ratting us out, I guess.”

“I would never. Honestly, I hope that this somehow works out—I don’t know how it could, though. But, I’ve had with Lotor’s entitled ass. He’s a real prick.”

Keith chuckled. “I can’t imagine how you put up with being around him so often.”

“It’s a miracle I haven’t lost my cool yet.”

“The only person who can get that reaction out of you is Slav,” Keith smiled.

“Oh god, don’t remind me of him. This mission was heaven sent… a whole month away from him? Maybe more?” He shook his head. “Well, I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Yeah, see you.”

 

* * *

 

Training hadn’t been as therapeutic as he’d have liked, but it worked well to wear him out enough for bed. He took a quick shower before slipping into his bed. He rolled over, then startled on feeling a body.

“What the fuck?” he pushed back, falling on the floor in a battle stance. He flicked on the lamp by his bed, recognizing the brown hair. “Lance?” he said.

It was enough to rouse him, and he turned. “Oh, hey.”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Oh, I told Lotor that I thought we should be celibate till our wedding night—that it was traditional. He got grumpy, so I left.”

“Are you sure it's smart for you to have come here?”

He shrugged. “He was reaching for a bottle of sleeping wine when I left, so it’s not like he’ll come looking for me. Now, come on,” he patted the bed. “It’s snuggle time featuring Lancey Lance and his guest Keithy Keith.”

He scoffed. “Whatever, Alonso.”

He sputtered. “I regret telling you my real name. Using it against me like that!” he turned over in bed, and Keith settled right behind him after shutting of the light.

“It’s a good name.”

“It’s my dad’s name. I feel weird using it. My own family doesn’t call me Alonso.”

“I just like bothering you is all,” he explained, placing his arm around Lance’s midsection.

Lance turned, pushing his shoulder. “I wanna be big spoon.”

“Fine,” Keith rolled over, relaxing when he felt Lance’s body pressed against his.

“Goodnight,” Lance said.

“Goodnight.”

“Te amo.”

Keith’s eyes shot open. Lance tensed. “What did you say?” he asked, knowing damn well what he’d said.

“Oh, nothing, just something you say before bed in Cuba?” he attempted a lie, but his voice died down near the end, convincing no one.

“I lived in Texas. I know enough Spanish to know what that means.”

“Cool, cool, rub it in my face how great you are with languages, why don’t you?”

“I’m not rubbing it in—and don’t change the subject.” He cleared his throat. “I love you, too.”

Lance nuzzled the back of his neck. “Nice. That’s cool.”

“What the fuck kind of reaction is that?”

“The Lancey Lance kind.”

“It’s a shit reaction.”

“I’m too tired to fuck, if that's what you're getting at…”

“That’s not what I want, either.”

“You don’t want to fuck me? That’s new.”

Keith laughed. “Such a brat.”

He licked the back of Keith’s neck. “What the fuck?” Keith repeated.

“Oh, so I can’t bother you but you can bother me?”

“You always bother me.”

“But you love me, so ha!”

“You love me too!”

“Touché,” he hummed. “Hey, I forgot to ask. Did Shiro rip you a new one?”

“Surprisingly, no. He’s more the ‘stern disappointed’ kinda brother than the yelling kind.”

“That’s good. Does he hate me?”

“No. I think he likes you, just not the whole situation. He hates Lotor, though.”

He chuckled. “Lotor has a way of making people hate him, I’ll admit.”

They hadn’t talked about it during that week, about the option of leaving Lotor. Keith didn’t want to push his luck, instead choosing to have Lance in what capacity he could for as long as possible.

Lance’s breathing was evening out, understandable since they’d had such a long day. Lance had taken him out to one of his favorite spots in the mountains to watch the sunrise—Keith had been shocked that Lance would willingly get up before midday. It was worth it, though, the sight breathtaking. Keith insisted that Lance was prettier, though, which had earned him a flustered, joking smack. He got his kisses later when they got home.

Lance fell asleep first, as he always did. Keith could never relax until he was sure Lance was comfortable, and so he usually didn’t even bother trying till he felt his slowed, soothing heartbeat. He settled deeper into his pillows, finally succumbing to his own weariness.


	4. Chapter 4

The week leading up the wedding was hectic, Keith following Lance all over town as he scrambled to finalize every little detail. Lotor had seen the whirlwind that was Lance, who was testier than usual and much less of a pushover, and had chosen to stay clear. So, in addition to spending their evenings apart, they weren't even seeing each other during the day. Even then, Keith and Lance didn’t have a ton of free time to spend together, as by the time they got back to Keith’s room, they were both too tired to do anything more than talk for a few minutes before falling asleep.

Coran had found out about them the day after Shiro, bursting into their room that morning and finding them snuggling—Keith just couldn’t wrap his head around people’s lack of manners those days. He’d found it all quite amusing, then kept them for half a varga telling them a story of a consort to a royal that he’d been quite close with. His story unfortunately didn’t have a happy ending, so he left them with awkward well wishes.

Since their closest friends knew, they weren’t hesitant to hold hands or share sweet kisses when only they were around. Lance had become a common figure in their shared living room, usually leaning against Keith while he made calls or pored over proposed seating charts; Keith preferred to watch TV, himself not having much of an opinion on weddings.

It was the night before the wedding, and Lance was, to no one’s surprise, a mess. Galrans weren’t religious by any means, so churches weren’t a concept that they understood. Having grown up Catholic, Lance insisted that he be married in a church. Lotor wasn’t one-hundred percent clear on what he wanted, but he’d agreed to a handsome chapel being built on castle grounds as Lance saw fit. The workers were still finishing up the building, however, half a day before the wedding.

“What if they’re not done in time?” Lance asked for what Keith thought had to have been the thousandth time. He paced in the living room, while Keith struggled to comfort all of his worries. Shiro and Coran looked on with sympathy, but the hour was growing late and they bid them both goodnight, leaving Keith alone in his battle.

“I should call them,” Lance said.

“You’ll only stress them out more. The foreman already said it would be complete by morning. We can go a bit early to check things out, then you’ll change into your dress and everything will be perfect.”

“And how dare Madames Troy and Urfiw decline my invitation! And after the RSVP date.” He crossed his arms. “It’s a slight to the Empire, really.”

“They’re only two guests, and they don’t get along with Lotor’s cousins at all, so it worked out.”

He stopped in front of Keith. “Did you think I looked fine in the dress? It’s not too much?”

If it was, now certainly wasn’t the time to think of that. “You looked—“

“You paused,” Lance interrupted. “You’re right, it’s too slutty, I’m too fat, oh my god I shouldn’t have eaten that crawfish, but damn was it good.”

It had been pretty delicious.

“It’s not slutty, it’s a classy design that you pull off well. And you’re not fat.”

“And now I’m being fatphobic what the hell is wrong with me?” He clasped his hands together. “Dios te salve, María, llena eres de gracia, el Señor es contigo.”

“Lance, you haven’t been to confession in years. You’re not even Catholic.”

“Oh my god I’m getting married in a fake Catholic church to a man I don’t love on an alien planet lightyears away from the Pope and my family doesn’t even know. Is it too late to call my family?”

“It is,” Keith replied honestly.

“Why didn’t I invite them? I’m a horrible son and I’m going straight to hell. I thought He’d be chill with the gay thing nowadays but there’s no way He’ll forgive this! Now I’ll never get to meet Beyoncé, I’ll be stuck with the B-list celebrities in hell where I belong.” He dragged his hands down over his cheeks, then froze. “I’m breaking out! Cancel the wedding, it’s over, I’m over it. Nope, nope, nope!” He resumed his pacing.

“You didn’t invite them because they were assholes to you. And, if they came, they’d notice that something wasn’t right between you and Lotor. They’d ruin all that you’ve worked for. Also God is dead and heaven and hell don’t exist.”

“But then where is Beyoncé’s ghost?”

“She’s probably reincarnated. Who knows, maybe it’s you?”

Lance gasped, pressing his hand over his heart. “That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Are you joking?”

“I never joke about Beyoncé!” He paced some more. “At least the flowers and food are good, god bless Hunk. Oh, but I just know the first dance will be awful. And no one will understand my traditions! Like the money dance! They won’t know that I want their shit, will they?”

It was true that the wedding was to be an amalgamation of Galran, Cuban, and Mexican traditions, as in addition to his Cuban heritage, Lance’s mother was of Mexican heritage. Keith highly doubted any of the guests would know what to do during the Earth practices, but they’d printed out some lovely pamphlets that explained the significance of each part of the wedding for that reason. He reminded Lance as much.

“But what if they can’t read?” he cried.

“Lance, you’re being ridiculous. Everyone gets nervous before their wedding.” Of course, most people married someone they loved and so found some comfort in that. He chose not to comment on that aspect of the union.

He smiled, shuffling over to the couch and taking a seat next to Keith. “Do you want a big wedding, Keith?”

“A wedding? I’ve never thought about it. Since I always moved around a lot, I didn’t think it’d be practical. Marriage on ships just requires the captain and first officer to witness it.”

“That’s no fun. Just imagine, then, paint me a picture. I need a distraction.”

“I could think of a much funner way to distract you,” he murmured against Lance’s ear.

“The audacity. Taking my virginity before my wedding. With poor grammar, at that.”

Keith rolled his eyes. “You’re a regular prude.”

“Mi abuela always told me to keep myself pure for my future husband—well, wife. She was homophobic, even in the year of our Lord twenty-two-eighty-three.”

“She’s probably rolling in her grave.”

“I’m tickled at the thought.” He nudged Keith’s arm. “Come on, wedding talk.”

“Well, if I had to have one… it would be a party the night before—not like, a huge formal affair. But, just friends and acquaintances I haven’t seen in years, all coming together to drink and celebrate. Dance the night away, reminisce. Then, a ceremony the next day, outside, sunny. Some trees. Uh… and the reception. Noodle soup.”

“Like… Korean soup?”

“Oh, wait, yeah, I guess I should include some Korean traditions,” he hummed. “Ah, I never went to a Korean wedding, I was too young. We’ll go with Campbell’s then.”

Lance laughed. “Will it be a long ceremony?”

“Half a varga, max. And definitely write my own vows. I’d probably cry, Shiro would cry.”

“Won’t everyone be hungover?”

“For sure.”

He shook his head, smiling. “But no booze at the reception?”

“Who needs booze when you’ve got chicken noodle soup?”

“Me, obviously!”

“Who said you’re invited to my wedding?” Lance huffed, and Keith laughed, his arm pressing him closer against his side. “Fine, the grooms can have booze. Everyone gets to watch us get drunk and have fun while they all eat some soup.”

“It’s like a scene from a surrealist novel.”

"My favorite."

“I always liked the idea of writing my own vows," Lance mused. "But, since this will be in Daibago, Lotor didn’t want me to try.”

“He’s dumb.”

“I know.” He sighed. “Do you think two people can really be in love till death? That anyone knows what the hell they’re doing when they make that decision?”

“I don’t think anyone knows what they’re doing ever. And yeah, things change, shit happens that can completely reshape them, even when they’re old. But, love changes, too. I think two people can fall in love at one point in their lives, change, but then keep falling in love with each other over time.”

“That’s so sweet.”

“What about you? Do you believe in true love? Destiny and soulmates?”

“I used to, growing up. I was a huge romantic. But, my relationships were never about that… I’d slept with tons of people but only had a handful of dates—and most of those were them buying me McDonald’s after a hook-up. I guess I grew up, got a bit cynical. Then I came here and things were looking even worse.

“I met Lotor, and it was different. Maybe it was just because he spoiled me, but whatever it was, I think I did care for him at some point. He never loved the real me, though, but I tried to lie and tell myself that he did. He’s a nasty man, I know now, and I was a stupid kid for thinking he would change.

“But, now you’re here, and what we have… it has to be destiny. I mean, our lives are so different, but we came together and things just felt so right. You’re everything I could ever want and more. And I keep falling more in love with you every day. I go to bed every night knowing you’ll be there the next day, and it makes me so happy that I get another day to fall for you, so many more days, hopefully, the rest of them, if I can,” he buried his head against Keith’s chest. “And I don’t deserve you, you should be with someone who isn’t as selfish as I am.”

“No, don’t say that. I can’t even imagine a day without you, you know. I never really looked to the future, since my life was so chaotic and hard to predict, but now I do think of it, and you’re there. You’re there at the altar with me, laughing at me while I cry over my vows.”

He laughed. “Under your sun and generic trees? Eating your shitty canned soup?”

“And then, we'll get our own ship and we’ll get to see the most beautiful sights this world has to offer—though honestly you’ll probably just ruin the view for me by looking so much more ethereal... So maybe I’ll keep a few to myself—but, you know, even then, when I visit them I’ll just be comparing them to you, and then I'll be sad that you're not there, so maybe it would be better to have you by my side just so I could kiss you when the inspiration strikes.

“We’ll find a planet, you and me, name it… Klance, or something, and we’ll live there and you’ll have my babies that we’ll raise to help tend the farm. It’ll be like Eden.”

“Klance? You’re cheesy,” he giggled. “Does that mean our kids will be incestuous?”

“I’ll admit that I’m really tired and maybe a bit delirious right now.”

“I want to hear your funny stories some more, though. Minus the incest.”

“Fine, fine. Let’s see… maybe I’ll teach you how to fight… or fly a ship! You’ll be my space ranger partner, and we’ll bring justice to everyone within sight of the stars.”

“I’m a lover, not a fighter.”

“Well, we’ll have to figure out how you’ll fit on Coran’s ship… No trophy husbands allowed.”

“I suppose I could do some work,” he grunted. “Destroy my nails; my beautiful physique, ruined by physical labor.”

Chuckling, Keith moved to stand. Lance whined at the movement. “Do you want bags under your eyes for your wedding photos?”

He was on his feet a second later, tugging Keith behind him to their room. He hopped into bed, settling on his side with his back toward Keith’s side. So it seemed Keith was the big spoon for once. He honestly preferred being the little spoon, even though he had a few inches on Lance. Lance always complained about being the big spoon, since he ended up with Keith’s ‘nasty mullet in his mouth’, but he still did it more often than not.

Settling under the comforter, Keith pulled Lance close, squeezing tight. “사랑해,” he said, kissing the back of Lance’s head.

Lance had heard the phrase often enough to know what it meant. “Te amo,” he replied, placing his hand over Keith’s arm. “Para siempre.”

 

* * *

 

The chapel was perfect, a stunning marvel of architecture. Lance had wanted a simple building, modeled after the one he attended in his youth. Still, the gilded columns and large windows were unlike any small church Keith had ever seen. He supposed it would fit right in near the beaches Lance was used to.

There wasn’t a bridal party, as Lotor wasn’t keen on having anyone stand near them when the attention should be solely on them, but it was only them who stood by the priest, anyway. The ceremony was long, and Keith thought the priest had mistranslated some things from the original source; he struggled to follow along with the pamphlet for the whole hour, especially since he had never been to a Catholic wedding so didn't know what was normal or not. There was a lot more movement then he was used to during a church service, and he was jealous when only the couple got to partake of some wine. He certainly could’ve used a drink.

Finally, the end was near, and Lance and Lotor, hand in hand, left for photos. The guests followed after, Shiro and Keith in the lead so they could keep their eyes peeled for anything suspicious.

Despite Keith warning him to not run himself ragged, prior to the ceremony Lance had insisted on monitoring the delivery of the flowers and the food. Hunk and Pidge tried their best to usher him away, only managing to persuade him by pointing out that his makeup needed fixing. Of course, Keith then had to deal with _that_ drama, but at least it kept Lance away from the loading areas so that Shiro and Coran could do their jobs without him bothering them. Lance had refused to change until Hunk confirmed that they’d received all the orders, and even then he kept glancing toward the castle as if he could somehow see whether they’d finished decorating.

The loading docks had been closed, so the hardest part of their job was over. Still, once at the ballroom, they along with Acxa and her soldiers performed a quick sweep of the building, the third one that day, then of the kitchens and the private hallways where staff had set up stations to help them more quickly restock the bars and tables during the cocktail hour.

One of Lotor’s trusted generals, Zethrid, was standing guard over the couple during their hour-long photo shoot, but Keith still naturally worried for Lance even as he performed his duties and scanned every guest while they wined and schmoozed.

He caught sight of the Altean delegation and chose to avoid their eye. He’d worked against their family on several occasions, though of course they wouldn’t recognize him. He wondered how Coran was fairing with them around. He didn’t talk about his past often, of why he left Altea. Keith knew it hadn’t been a pleasant parting, though, and that it had been decades ago, but Coran still visibly bristled whenever Altea or King Alfor were mentioned.

King Alfor was there with his daughter; she looked just like her later mother, Agell, who’d passed a few years before. He was chatting with a familiar figure, and Keith remembered what Lance had said about Blaytz being an important diplomat in the past. He was back in the castle, then, with his husband on his arm instead of serving him drinks. Still, Blaytz’s husband looked uncomfortable. Keith watched the man’s eyes follow the waitstaff, glaring on their behalf whenever a guest didn’t thank them for replacing their glass or bumped into them.

“Well, I found a couple making out in the coatroom,” Shiro announced, stepping up to Keith’s side.

“It’s ten AM?”

Shiro shrugged. “I specifically remember you and Lance waking us up at the crack of dawn just a few days ago.”

“To be fair, that was Lance waking you up. He’s very loud.”

“We’ve noticed,” Shiro rolled his eyes. Still, he held out a fist, and Keith bumped it. “Nice.”

“Thanks.”

“You’ll be so lonely tonight, what are you gonna do without your cuddle buddy? You may have to spend time with your lame old brother. Play some video games, enjoy some brews.”

“I have to tell you something.”

“What?”

“That week when you were gone…”

“Yeah?”

“Lance and I beat that weird quest game we found.”

Shiro gasped. “That was our thing! Please tell me you didn’t—“

“We had some beer.”

“I’m hurt.”

“And he beat your high score on that racing game.”

Shiro shook his head, disappointment clear on his face. “Betrayed by my own brother.”

“He’s, like, way better than any of us at games. He says he’s played just about everything in the castle—he’s bored a lot.”

“No fair.”

“He thought your score was ‘cute’. Offered to coach you if you wanted.”

“I’m going to leave before I do something I regret.”

Keith laughed. “When Lance gets back, we can all play some games and have some beer together.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll include your boyfriend. But when I get one, I’m gonna flaunt him in front of your face and makeout with him all the time—see how you like it.”

“That would require you actually talking to a boy,” Keith laughed. “What about that one guy you keep talking about? The finance guy?”

“Matt?”

“Yeah. Oh, he’s Pidge’s brother, huh?”

“Yeah, and way out of my league. Plus every time I talk to him Pidge is in the background glaring at me. Kinda scary.”

“She’s harmless. She’s probably just like you—jealous that someone else would take her brother’s attention.”

“I am not jealous,” he sputtered. “I hate you and you’re annoying go away.”

“Look, Pidge is too busy manning the door. Matt’s completely free. Go talk to him.”

“Oh, I suddenly forgot how to do that thing you want me to do oh darn.”

“You’re a child, why do people think you’re the mature one?”

“Not all of us have crazy good instincts that make me do crazy things that somehow end up working out! I can’t just go up to this guy and be like, hey wanna vomit in an alley so I can fall in love with you then like confess my feelings and kiss you and your feet?”

He flushed. “That is not the story and you know it! And who told you about the feet?”

“It’s a decent synopsis, I think. And I heard Lance teasing you about it. Never would’ve pegged you as a romantic, but damn you’ve got some lines in you, don’t you?”

“They’re not lines,” he crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s just how I feel.”

“Damn.”

“And you do have instincts like me, you just need some confidence.”

“It’s not like I can leave my post, anyway.”

“We have so much more backup than we anticipated. And you’re just talking to him, not leaving.” Keith snatched two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter, thanking him as he left. “Here.”

“This is so irresponsible.”

“I saw Coran with a flask. Come on, it’s a party. Loosen up.”

He grumbled, but took the glass. “Well, bottoms up.” He knocked it back, smacking his lips. “Fruity.” He noticed the glass in Keith’s hand and frowned. “You didn’t drink yours.”

“You mean yours,” Keith passed the second glass to Shiro, taking the empty one. He looked toward Matt, who was watching them. Keith waved. “Hey, Matt!” he yelled. Matt waved back and started walking their way.

“Oh my god I hate you so much.”

“Just helping you get that boyfriend so you can brag about him or whatever.”

He slipped away before Matt got close, still having some rounds to make after all—unlike Shiro, so busy flirting, he was a responsible soldier, he chuckled to himself. He was never going to let Shiro live this down.

While he was on the upper balcony, one of the bartenders announced last call for the cocktail hour. Most of the guests grabbed one last drink before moving to the primary ballroom for the reception, and Keith watched them slowly start to trickle away.

He turned, detecting a noise. Sure enough, Ezor appeared at the top of the stairwell. “What’s up, Keith?” she asked, bubbly as always.

“Not much. Haven’t seen anything awry.”

“I have.”

“What?” he started.

“Yeah, you’re too uptight!”

“I already lost Shiro to the party, I can’t give in to temptations.”

She laughed. “Well, at the very least, we should head to where the best part of any wedding is!”

“The spot where the couple makes their first married appearance, where people reminisce on days long past, where the first dance and the bouquet toss happen, the display of current love making way for the promise of love in future generations?” he joked.

“What? No, the food, man!” she shook her head. “You Terrans are so serious.”

“I was joking.”

“Huh? You didn’t sound like it.”

“The flat delivery was the hint.” Well, he reassured himself, he bet Lance would’ve found it funny. He always laughed at his jokes.

“Okay… well, food?”

“Yes, I’m starving.”

Ezor led the way down the stairs, chattering about how lovely everything had turned out. It apparently was nowhere near as intricate as weddings where she’d grown up, but it was much more fun than the average Galra binding ceremony, as it was called.

Keith took his assigned seat. Lance knew that he had to be placed in such a way to see the whole room, and that everyone working security had to be spaced evenly throughout the tables. But he also didn’t want Keith stuck with anyone unpleasant, and so he shared a table with Blatyz, his husband, Pidge, Hunk, and a few Galra soldiers, Thace and Ulaz.

Blaytz was definitely the ringleader of the table, his boisterous personality and witty jokes doing a good job of placing the strangers at ease. Keith finally learned his husband’s name, Mrinik, and, while a bit quieter, he proved to be Blaytz’s equal when it came to jokes.

The first course was served, and Keith turned to Thace, who sat to his right. He didn’t really have a cover story for the mission, but he stuck with calling himself Lance’s tutor since that’s what Blaytz thought him to be. When he showed a bit more than civilian-level knowledge of some of the terms Thace and Ulaz used, he simply said he was a big war history buff. They seemed to buy it, or perhaps they simply didn’t care, since they dropped it.

Another round of champagne flutes passed through the room, and Lance and Lotor made their appearance. They made a handsome couple—well, Keith assumed they did. He didn’t actually look at Lotor, Lance’s radiance drawing in his gaze like a light draws in a moth. No matter how much Lance bashed himself and his dress, he _had_ to know that he looked fantastic in it. He floated across the floor, his skin glowing in the light of the chandeliers. It was a stark contrast to the pure white gown, rivaled only by his shining teeth. Keith remembered all the time he spent attempting to whiten his already-glistening teeth during the last week—only because his whitening strips prevented them from kissing for a whole hour. How he hated them. But, he supposed their end result was good, and Lance had been happy with their effect.

Once Lance and Lotor sat, the second course was served. According to the program, there would be toasts after the lunch, then the dances, the bouquet toss—Keith had suggested that Lance wear a garter, but he only earned an annoyed groan for that—Lance’s money dance, and the cake. At some point, the bar service would resume, priming the guests for the party to come.

Keith watched the room all throughout the meal. Most of the guests were flush with drink, content with their food as well. When the time came for toasts, many a noble offered their well-wishes for the couple, and even a few anecdotes, most of them of sometime in Lotor’s past or about his father. A few of Lotor’s drunk cousins even got a little raunchy in their praises of Lance, and Keith seethed. How dare they speak of him like that when he couldn’t even understand them? And then Lotor just laughed along with them, as if it was all a joke, as if Lance was a joke.

Pidge placed an arm on Keith’s fist, clenched around his fork. “Keith,” she whispered. “Calm down.” Blaytz looked at him with some sympathy, Mrinik and Hunk too. Thace and Ulaz noticed but chose not to comment on his strange behavior.

Keith was ecstatic when Lotor’s fourth cousin, who was even bawdier than the other, wasn’t given the mic. Thus concluded the toasts, and Lance and Lotor took to the floor for their first dance.

Lance had had no reason to fear, he didn’t mess up one step. They glided across the floor. Keith recognized the tune, but it took him a minute to realize just what it was.

“Oh my god,” he covered his mouth in an attempt not to laugh. While it was a traditional band that played, all woodwinds and string instruments, there was no mistaking the song once it got to the chorus.

Pidge snickered next to him. “I can’t believe he actually did it. He told me he was gonna try and sneak it in by telling Lotor is was a traditional Cuban folk song—I didn’t think Lotor would buy it!”

“Lightyears away from her home planet and centuries after death, Beyoncé’s memory lives on as the Princes of the universe’s largest empire seal their union to ‘Love on Top’,” Hunk crossed himself, then brought his left hand up, twisting it at the wrist twice. “All the single ladies who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name.”

“Beautiful,” Keith nodded. “Makes me wanna take up religion.”

The dance concluded, and the guests cheered. Keith looked toward Shiro who was laughing into his napkin, Matt beside him and in a similar state. It was nice of Lance to seat them together, he thought. He hadn’t known that Lance had picked up on any clues of Shiro’s crush. Unless… he heard things from Matt’s side?

For the bouquet toss, all the unmarried beings were asked to come up. Lance hadn’t wanted to restrict anything by gender since some of the species they invited had vastly different ways of describing gender from them. For simplicity’s sake, then, about a fifth of the guests were allowed to try their hand at catching the bouquet. Keith idled, not wanting to participate in the silly ritual. Still, as he walked up, he caught Lance’s eyes, which winked at him. He smirked, pointedly positioning himself about two steps behind the crowd. If Lance could get the thing to him, he’d be more than a little impressed.

After taking in Keith’s position, Lance turned. He counted out loud, releasing it after a loud “tres!” The guests in the front had no chance, even the taller ones watched with displeasure as it arced far over their heads. Someone in front of Keith had leaned back in an attempt to catch it, but their neighbor bumped them and sent them out of the bouquet’s path. Keith simply placed his arms out, and it landed in them. The guests clapped for him, though some also glared. He couldn’t figure why, since the bouquet toss was a foreign tradition to them.

“Bouquet catcher gets a dance with the bride!” Lance declared, stepping around the crowd and making his way toward Keith. The rest of the single people retreated to their seats, as well as Lotor, and Keith was left, standing across from the love of his life, who looked stunning in his wedding dress, beaming up at him as if they weren't surrounded by a hundred people but just the two of them, alone in their room. But... it wasn’t for him. He felt his chin quiver, and fought to keep it still.

Lance took the bouquet from him, setting it on the closest table before bringing him to the middle of the dance floor. The band started up again, a more traditional love ballad this time around.

“This wasn’t in the program,” Keith said, leading Lance in a simple waltz. The band was loud, and they were far enough away from the guests that he figured they’d be safe to speak.

“Spur of the moment. I wanted to dance with you.”

“Can’t we dance later?”

“It’s not the same. Now, it’s just you and me. Everyone’s looking at us. It’s almost as if _we_ got married.”

“Lance…” he bowed his head, unable to meet his eye.

“Oh, Keith, don’t cry!” Lance turned them so Keith’s back was to the crowd. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think… I guess it makes sense, though…”

“It’s fine,” he insisted. It hurt like hell.

“You know I love you, right?”

“Of course. And I love you.”

“There’s something I need to tell you, after I get back from my honeymoon. It’s important, and I hope it won’t change your opinion of me. I have a feeling that we’ll be fine, but I’m still worried.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t think it changes things all that much, honestly, but just the thought of you hating me…”

“We’re still getting to know each other, aren’t we? There’s no way we can know everything about each other at this point. That’s how we can keep falling for each other, when we learn new things.”

“Yeah?” Lance brightened. “Alright. I feel so much better now that you’ve said it again. I swear I’m not like evil or anything! I think, too, it’ll help you better understand what I did with Lotor, why I’m still going through with the wedding. And then, you’ll see that there’s hope for us to be together, truly, in the end.”

Keith’s brow creased, worry evident on his face. Just what could it be? “Making me wait a week for this cliffhanger? How rude,” he teased.

Lance chuckled. “You know what? You’re right. I’ll tell you tonight. Lotor and I have an hour after the reception ends before we take off in our ship. I’ll meet you near the ship bay?”

“Alright. Can I hug you?”

“Sure. I think everyone knows we’re friends.” The song ended, but they didn’t part. For several seconds, they just stared. Lance’s eyes fluttered shut, and before he could blow their cover, Keith pulled him in for a hug.

“I love you,” he whispered against his ear. “So much.”

“Te amo.”

They pulled away, heading back to their respective seats. Keith struggled to look nonchalant, as if his heart hadn’t just been manhandled throughout the whole dance. He and Lance couldn’t stop making eye contact across the room, even as Lance moved from table to table to greet his guests with Lotor.

The bar opened up, and Keith made his way over, professionalism be damned. He ordered the first drink on the menu that he recognized, then went back to his table. Lance and Lotor weren’t able to make it through too many tables when the band started up again. Lance pulled at Lotor’s hand, tugging him back to the dance floor for their money dance. People read their pamphlets for confirmation of what they were supposed to do, then rooted around in their bags and pockets for any paper bills they may have. Keith didn’t have anything on him, and he’d already had his dance with Lance, so he chose to do a quick sweep of the room instead. The bustle of the guests all lining up was distracting, but his eyes were sharp, able to take in everyone that passed by him.

Lance was covered in bills within minutes, happily chatting and twirling with all the guests who came his way. Lotor kept his interactions more brief, and he didn’t boast nearly as much money. Still, he smiled on seeing his old friends and advisors when they came to greet him.

Acxa was next in line to dance with Lotor, but she elected for a handshake once she finished pinning her bill on his suit. She took his hand and smiled. He moved to pull away, but she didn’t let go.

She pulled him closer by the hand, her knee rising and meeting his stomach. He crumpled over and she moved to his back, twisting his arm behind him. The band sputtered to a stop, the guests looking on as she pulled out a gun—the gun that only she’d been allowed—and placed the nozzle to the back of Lotor’s head. “Run, and I shoot. Everyone, back to your seats!” she barked. The guests looked toward the exits, only to see hooded figures blocking them, guns at the ready.

How had this happened? Keith whirled, trying to find Shiro. The guests started shuffling to their seats, a few raising their hands over their heads to appear less threatening.

Shiro was scanning the room, gauging the situation. Ezor, too, seemed shell-shocked. There were just too many guns, too many civilians. Keith pressed forward, pushing past the crowd to get to Lance, who was still standing, staring at Acxa in shock.

He nearly reached him when Lance started shouting. “Acxa! What the hell is this?”

She eyed him with little interest. “The time for revolution is now.”

Lance stepped toward her, anger clear in his heavy steps. “How dare you!”

“What?”

“You ruin my fucking wedding day? During my money dance? I knew you were a petty bitch but this takes the cake! And— _oh my god_  I didn't even get to cut the cake!”

“Lance!” Keith called out. “What are you doing? Get away from her, she has a gun!”

“This wasn’t part of the plan,” he hissed.

“It is now,” she said. “Look under your seat.”

He huffed, then stomped to his chair. He reached under it, pulling out another gun. “I’m still annoyed,” he said. He cocked the rifle, bringing the scope up to his eye. “And this isn’t my gun.”

Acxa shrugged.

“Alright, then, everybody,” he turned, his gun pointed toward the crowd. They cowered, a few screaming out. “This isn’t what I had wanted out of my wedding day,” he glared at Acxa. “But, what’s done is done. We are the Blade of Marmora , and we are the Revolution!” The figures at the door stepped in, spreading out so they circled the room. Several guests stood as well, brandishing their own weapons and joining Lance at the front of the room.

So many familiar faces, Keith was shocked. Matt was there, plus his whole table was there, minus Blaytz. They were all a part of the Blade? The usurping force they’d been tasked with killing? And Lance was one of them?

“Lance,” he heard how weak his voice was.

Lance faltered, looking at him. “Keith. I swear this wasn’t what was supposed to happen!”

“And what was?” Lotor spat, Acxa twisted his arm further. “I trusted you! I let you into my home!”

Lance turned to him, glaring. “You were a fool,” he responded in perfect Daibago. “You are a horrible person, and the only reason I ended up with you instead of Acxa was because I knew what you were like, I knew what you would do to her, and I couldn’t have going through that.”

Acxa looked at Lance, a guilty look in her eye. She returned her sights to Lotor. “Stop talking,” she ordered the prince.

“I’m not sure exactly what the plan’s supposed to be, now that we’ve picked up a room full of the most important people in the universe,” Lance frowned. “I wasn’t briefed on this.”

“It’s fine,” Thace stood beside him. “I’m taking point on this. All of the guests will be escorted to cells. You’ll simply keep watch with the rest. Your work is done, Lance, good work.”

He nodded. “Thank you, Thace.”

“You heard the man!” Pidge yelled, "Everyone up! We’re taking you to the dungeons!”

“It’s not technically a dungeon anymore,” Lance said. Keith still couldn’t get over how naturally the language fell from his tongue. He’d been able to understand them all along. “It’s been remodeled. Well insulated, running water. It’s quite nice.”

“Then to the remodeled basement!” Pidge amended. Lance nodded.

The procession was a blur. One moment they were in the ballroom, the next the figures with guns were forcing them down dark stairs and halls, and finally they were in their cells.

They truly weren’t that horrible, two beds per room, and a private stall for the bathroom. Keith was surprised that they let him in with Shiro; they both fell onto their beds, silent. Occasionally a guard would pass by their door, their heads visible through the small window. It was only ever the hooded figures, never the faces they knew.

“Keith,” Shiro said finally. They’d been sitting for half an hour. “We need to think. Are you alright?”

He shook his head, the thought of lying far from his mind.

Shiro was at his side in seconds, throwing an arm around his shoulder. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

“I thought… he said…” Keith began. He sniffed, not wanting to cry in such a moment. He was used to stress, to danger. Usually, it was him who’d be searching the room, already plotting a means of escape or ambush. But he couldn’t think straight at all, not when the source of all his turmoil was someone he loved. Someone who said they loved him. Was it all a lie, then? He cried, then, throwing his arms around Shiro’s and sobbing openly.

Shiro gently soothed him, rubbing his back and repeating that he was okay. But he wasn’t okay. How could he be?

After crying for what seemed like forever but was only a few minutes, he took a deep, centering breath. “Okay. I can think, now. Let’s figure this out.”

They both stood, heading in opposite directions to try and find any weak point. Keith pushed the door first. It was dense, thick. He grabbed the doorknob, trying to get a feel for the lock mechanism.

It opened when he turned it. "Oh, well that makes things easy. Shiro."

"Hm?"

He pointed his head toward door. “What’s their pattern?”

“One passes heading left every six minutes, one going right every three. I’d guess three guards total circling.”

“The blueprints we had of this place…” he racked his brain. “They aren’t proper. It was the old dungeon, not these remodeled cells.”

“The central infrastructure is probably still the same,” Shiro reasoned. “Two central guard posts, the exit in between. A narrow hallway circles the center complex as well as a few of the old cells like a figure-eight, but square, with the rest of the cells on the outside. A sensible guard routine would be one making the large loop while the other two go counterclockwise in opposing directions.” He eyed the room. “The previous cells were about a third the size of these, and there were three per block. So now there’s one per block.”

“Nowhere near enough cells for all the guests. Where else could they be keeping them?”

“I’m not sure,” he confessed. “It’s possible that they’re using the guard rooms for some of the more important hostages. King Alfor, for example.”

“Would the Blade be down here with everyone? The guests have them outnumbered.”

“A bunch of royal civilians aren’t much of a threat. I think they’re in the room, the leaders. Thace and Acxa and… the rest.”

“It’s what you would do?” Keith asked. Shiro nodded. “Alright, but why is our door unlocked? A trap?”

“If they wanted to hurt us, they would’ve. My guess is that they wanted to give us time to cool off… give you time.”

“You think Lance wants to see me?”

“I’m sure he does.”

He grabbed the doorknob. “This man will be the death of me.”

“That’s love,” Shiro shrugged.

“No it’s not!”

“After the next left facing guard passes, wait thirty seconds. Then, we’ll head right, and we should be able to get into the hallway near the stairs without the second one spotting us.”

“Alright,” Keith said, crouching below the window of the door. Shiro sat on the bed, hunched over and giving the appearance of a scared hostage. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted the guard and started counting. On thirty, Keith opened the door and they bolted, turning right. Shiro’s suspicions of the layout were correct, and they slipped into the central hallway without being spotted. Of course, there was the problem of the guard room. Surely everyone would be armed, assuming they could even get in.

“On three,” Shiro said. “One.” Keith grabbed the handle, fingers flexed around the metal. “Two.” He braced his legs, ready to shoot into the room like a spring. “Three!”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~it's my birthday and i have an exam in 8.5 hours (: ~  
> also RIP soft klance; there's a use of a gay slur, and overall some really shitty words exchanged  
> a little smutty

Lance was nursing a pretty nasty head wound, holding an ice pack against his temple. Acxa and the others had given him some time to lick his wounds, retreating to the other central guard station. He'd long since changed out of his gown and into more casual jeans and shirt, and then he waited. He’d left his door open, and also had had Keith and Shiro’s door unlocked, too, knowing that they would come as soon as they figured out that they weren't actually imprisoned. Of course, he wasn’t as concerned with talking to Shiro, though he meant no offense to him. He had some things to explain to Keith, after all, he owed him as much.

The door opened with a slam, and he jumped. The movement made him press the cold pack a bit too hard against his head, and he hissed.

“Lance!” Keith stood, worry evident on his face. He seemed to remember that he was supposed to be angry, though, and he frowned. “Where are the others?”

“Other room,” he said. “We have the room to talk.”

Keith turned toward Shiro—he deserved to know the truth too, didn’t he?

“He can stay, of course,” Lance said. “Do you have any questions to start with?”

Keith walked toward him. “Did any of it… mean anything to you?”

Lance rose, dropping his ice pack and reaching out for Keith. “Of course it did! It meant everything to me! I never lied about loving you! You… you weren’t part of the plan… none of this was!”

Keith cradled his face, fingers barely ghosting over the injured side. “What happened to your face?”

“I got in a fight with Acxa… she’s a very proud person, and she’d been embarrassed. Tensions have always been high between us, I’ll admit.”

Keith leaned forward, placing a soft kiss to his cheek. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“Perhaps he should just start from the beginning,” Shiro suggested, sitting across from the pair. He wanted things moving along, and knowing Keith, they’d probably just end up kissing and cooing at each other if he didn’t try to guide them. “What was your plan, then, if it’s not this?”

“Alright, well... I guess I’ll start from when I first met the Blade. So, I met Blaytz, then Hunk and Pidge, yada yada yada. Well, Hunk and Pidge were a part of the Blade, which, to clarify, was a group started to counteract Zarkon’s cruel reign. They operated in the capitol, trying—and failing—numerous times to try and foil him. My higher-ups still won’t tell us the truth about his death, whether they were involved or not, but regardless, after his death, they became less active, thinking Lotor might be less vicious.

“But, Lotor hasn’t been proving to be as kind as he was in his youth. He did away with some of the harsher practices of Zarkon’s day, sure, making him look good in the eyes of other planets, but he still walks all over his people—just as all the nobles do; as they always have. So, the Blade’s been working again, though this time, they thought not just to kill the ruler, but to do away with the whole governmental system—much easier said than done, I know.

“They needed someone on the inside, someone close to Lotor. Acxa was a former soldier and earned her way into his cabinet, which seemed like all they needed for a time. But, she was never close to him, personally, not as a friend, even, and not in the way they needed. They needed someone Lotor could trust, someone he would underestimate and let his guard down around.

“I joined the Blade because of my father. I haven’t told you about him, because I was always so ashamed. You know that I’m from Cuba, that we escaped before the recent wars? Well, the reason we ran was because of my dad. He wasn’t a good man. Alonzo César Morillo. My father. He plotted to kill the president during a time of peace simply because he and his party were so greedy for power. Sent my country—our home—into turmoil! Was responsible for the death of thousands! And what did I do? I grew up in our villa with a silver spoon in my mouth, never knowing the truth, never knowing why people wanted my dad dead, why they threw things at us in the streets, why people were starving within view of my room, all because the oligarchs in my country were swallowing up every last bit of exploitable resource they could find.

“Media coverage showed some of the horrible things my father and the others did to people who still supported the democracy, who fought against him. Nations clamored to support the resistance group, and eventually their tactics started working. My father said we needed to flee. Said that they’d kill us—I couldn’t fathom why, we were good people! We went to church every week, didn’t go out to all those loud protests they always told me were bad, growing up. We changed our names, got completely new identities, and went off planet. There were already so many Cubans fleeing the country, so we were just a drop in the bucket. I talked to those boys and girls, who didn't know who I was. God, they hated us, so, so much. Enough that I started hating us, too.

“The rest of my family settled on Altea, but not once did they admit that we were the problem, that our father was evil. I finally confronted him about it. He tore people’s families apart, not just our own! How could he even stand to look his family in the face after what he’d done? But, no one took my side. They said he fought for us, that he provided and that I should’ve been grateful. That he was only getting our family its wealth back, wealth that had been stolen from them over the last century, they said.

“I will never be grateful to him, to this murderer. But… I couldn’t bring myself to hurt him, either. So I ran. I was angry, finally becoming aware of all the wrong in my world and all the other worlds. Hunk and Pidge, they saw that anger, and they helped me… redirect it in a positive way. I didn’t really get what they were doing at first, I’ll admit. Thought it was just a little gang that, I don’t know, met up to make themselves feel better, or something.

“But then I saw what life was like here for immigrants, for refugees, for freed people—I lived it, and it was deplorable. I started listening more to the Blade’s words, then, and I was impressed by the scope of their operation, to have someone so close to Lotor! But for this mission, they needed something more. Someone who could turn Lotor’s head. Acxa tried, she really did, but she didn’t… she wasn’t much of an actor; she wouldn’t be able stand for Lotor’s abuse, which was something that couldn’t be avoided.

“So I took on her mission instead. While she remained just his advisor, I became his lover, his confidant. The plan was to be more gradual. I was to marry him, and test just how much I could control him for some odd years. If it came to be that I could help people through him well enough, they would let him remain in power—because it would be the Blade in power. If I couldn’t, or if what I was able to do wasn’t enough, or if it was taking too long, then the revolution would begin. Of course, for the new order to receive support from the outside world, we planned to emphasize our limited use of violence, which of course would never be used against the general population.”

He paused, gauging their reactions. He cleared his throat, continuing. “I knew his daily routine, knew his type—Acxa had been watching him for years, after all. I bumped into him that day, played my part as I always had,” he turned to Keith. “And I was happy to do it, truly, to atone for all those years of turning my back on the most marginalized groups. I was miserable, of course, but I came to see it as my penance. I didn’t mind if the Blade was using me, because as far as I was concerned, I deserved so much worse for turning a blind eye for so long.

“He was too easy to play, honestly, all I had to do was be stupid and pretty, act as helpless as possible. He ate it up. Where Acxa had failed despite years, I succeeded in a week. She was pissed, of course, that someone so green would be given such an important job, and she acted out of spite toward me. But it was for the best, that I be hurt instead of her. Again, I thought it justice for my past inaction.

“The threat made against us… I knew the true nature of it: that it was made against me specifically, but it was not the Blade trying to scare Lotor… why would we want to discourage our union? We still don’t know who did that, who brought you to us. But it derailed our operations. It became so much harder for me to go into town and relay information as I saw fit, difficult even for me to speak with Lotor, the threat had him so paranoid. He was less affectionate after you came, stress from all of it getting to him.

“According to Thace, the reason we acted today was because they believed that I no longer had control over Lotor, that I was getting too unfocused.” He looked at Keith. “Perhaps they were right. I’m sorry that I dragged you into this, that I lied to you for so long.”

“What now, then? You wanted to show the world that you're a peaceful group, and yet you’ve kidnapped some of the universe’s top politicians and royals. What could possibly be your next step?” Shiro asked.

Lance pouted, turning to the side. “I never said I agreed with this new plan, so don’t look at me. See, we’re not holding anyone hostage. In fact, we’re in counsel with them, discussing how best we can transition power to a responsible party until a proper election can be held, a party that their respective governments will recognize.”

“It all seems so… disorganized?” Keith offered. “You’re just a small group… how could you think to change the whole system of government over night?”

“We know it won’t change just like that… there will be opposition, loyalists in the planet and our colonies. The transitional period will be rough, as we’ll be selecting leaders from our ranks—'aren't they just as dictatorial as the monarchy?' people will say. But it will be necessary in order to avoid strife before the first elections are held.”

“This is idiotic,” Keith muttered. “The Galra Empire has been in power for thousands of years! You can’t just up and overthrow it! They have countless allies, their army will surely turn against you in a matter of days! Maybe less!”

“The Blade’s message has spread through even the army. We believe that the people are ready for this! They will hear the call and join the fight for true representation in their leaders!”

Keith shook his head. “You could die! What if you trigger a war? What if you turn out just like your father?”

Lance swung his arm, slapping Keith’s cheek. “Don’t you ever say that to me! I will never be like him! God, even sharing his name fills me with shame,” he grabbed his stomach, appearing ill.

“You told me your real name before... but why didn't you tell me you hated it? I used it so often,” Keith said.

“I was embarrassed! How could I expect you to understand?” he snapped.

For all their courting, fighting hadn’t really been a thing between them. Usually when Lance was yelling, it was because he was upset about something internal, not… something like this.

“So when were you going to tell me all of this?”

“I would’ve! I told you at the wedding, didn’t I, that I’d tell you the truth!” he frowned. “You said it wouldn’t change a thing.”

“Well, that was before I found out you were a terrorist! What are you going to do with Lotor? With the royals? Kill them?”

“I thought you would sympathize more with us,” he said.

“And why would you think that?”

“Your brother was a slave! You lived in Daibazaal, orphaned and looked down upon for your race! You know that this is all wrong!”

“Well some of us do something called adapt, Lance! You can’t just do away with things you don’t like! Sometimes you just have to live with it.”

He shook his head. “I thought you had more convictions. I guess I was wrong.”

“Yeah, well, that makes two of us.”

Lance scowled, an ugly expression Keith had never seen cross his face. “We have no use of you three. You’re free to leave whenever you see fit.”

“So what? This is over? You string me along for a month and leave me for this… this rag tag excuse of a revolution?”

“It doesn’t have to be a choice for me, Keith. Why is everything so different now?”

“Because you manipulated me the same way you manipulated Lotor! Fuck, I mean… you opened up to me about so much, about your insecurities, your fears, your shame… but those weren’t the truth. And, you let me believe that I was actually comforting you with your darkest shit, that I was helping, but I clearly wasn’t. That hurts, Lance. That you clearly don’t trust me.”

“I wanted to tell you, but, I mean, look what’s happening. You don’t believe in this cause, do you?”

He glanced to the side. “I don’t know.”

Lance’s frown deepened. “You told me that learning new things about each other… that that was how people kept falling in love.”

He sighed. “That’s like, little things, Lance. Like learning that they snore, or leave their socks around the house. Not that they gave up their entire identity to seduce a man for some ridiculous cause.”

“Stop saying it’s stupid, alright?” Lance yelled. “If you really think we’re idiots for this, for caring, then… I don’t know what to say, Keith. But this is who I am.”

“Even now, you’re acting so different! I knew you hid stuff from Lotor, and I felt like you truly loved me because you were telling me everything. But, regardless of the exact content of what you were hiding, why has your telling me made you change so much? You whole demeanor right now is different!”

“Why? ‘Cause I’m yelling? Because you’ve never seen me angry? I’m capable of being more than just happy, drunk, or crying, you know. Maybe I never got so heated about stuff between us because any conflicts we had weren’t that big! We didn’t have enough stuff to fight over because we weren’t a couple in all parts of our life. You think I was never mad at you? Of course I was. But I loved you, so I didn’t put so much stock in it.”

“Why didn’t you say something, then? When were you mad at me?”

“It doesn’t matter, does it?”

“Of course it does! We’re working things out!”

He scoffed, crossing his arms. “Fine. You’re too clingy.”

Keith’s mouth fell open. He didn’t have a rebuttal for that. “Why didn’t you tell me, then?”

He shrugged. “Because I love you. It’s how you show your love. How could I be angry with you just trying to love me?”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, 'oh'. When you look at it in the grand scheme of things, little stuff like that doesn’t seem like a big deal at all.”

“But you should say something! I could change, ask you for permission first, or something.”

“I’m not trying to gate keep your affection, Keith,” he rolled his eyes. “I mean, you’re obviously overcompensating for a lack of any other intimacy in your life.”

“Excuse me?” he bristled. “Don’t you psychoanalyze me, daddy issues!”

“Wanna say that again, Mr. Fear of Abandonment?” Lance took a step closer, poking at his chest.

“I’m, uh, gonna step outside,” Shiro said, shuffling away awkwardly.

“And what’s with all this Catholic guilt? Get a few too many rulers to the back of the hand or something?” He stepped forward, chest bumping against Lance’s. “Fat lot of good your penance will do you with all the dick you’ve been taking. Your little ‘God’ isn’t a fan of that, remember?”

“You fucking… puta maricon!”

“Oh, real original, like I haven’t heard that one before!”

Lance shoved him backward several steps. They both stared at each other from across the room.

“You wanna do this, huh?” Keith asked.

“Yeah, I do, mullet,” he spat the pet name.

“Bring it on, Princess,” he sneered.

They charged at the same time. Lance was no fighter, and he was weaker, so Keith had the clear advantage. Lance fell to the floor with a thud, Keith on top of him, pinning his arms.

Lance thrust his knee up, hitting Keith in the stomach and costing him his balance. He dodge Keith’s falling form, clasped his hands together, and raised them above his head before bringing them down on Keith’s back, knocking the wind out of him.

Of course, he only managed to trap his legs under Keith’s bulk. He squirmed.

“Get off me, you fatass!”

“Go to the gym you lazy, spoiled, little brat!” Keith’s voice wasn’t sounding optimal.

“God, you say I changed?” Lance pushed Keith’s side, managing to squeeze his way and stand shakily to his feet. “Look at you, nasty and mean and saying all the things you said I never deserved to hear!”

Keith regained his breath, getting up on his hands and knees. In a second, Lance was on the ground, Keith having kicked his legs out from under him.

He yelled as he fell, barely managing to catch himself. “Shit,” he said, falling back and looking at his scraped hands. Keith was on him in a second, chest heaving as he looked down at his winded, bloodied face.

Keith leaned in at the same time Lance did, meeting in the middle in a messy kiss, teeth clacking. Lance moaned at the roughness, hands immediately finding their home in Keith’s hair. He fingered through the sweaty tresses, bucking up just as Keith thrust down.

“God,” Lance cried, tossing his head back and hissing as it bumped the floor. Keith didn’t pay it any mind, too busy zoning in on his throat with his teeth. “Fuck…” Lance reached between them, dexterous digits finding Keith’s pant button and snapping it off with a harsh yank. He worked the zipper down before jamming his hand under his boxers.

“God, Lance,” Keith groaned. He sat up a bit, quickly working his way out of his suit jacket. He started unbuttoning his shirt while Lance fiddled at his tie, finally getting it off.

“How do you want it?” Keith asked, hands roaming over Lance’s torso.

Lance handed him the tie. “How do you feel about bondage?”

Keith swallowed. “I think I could do that.”

“I want you to tie me up and fuck me into oblivion.”

His throat went dry. “I-I can do that.”

Lance rolled his eyes. “’I-I c-can f-fuck you,’” he mocked in a much too high voice. “Like you mean it, Keith.”

Lance choked, a hand pressed over his windpipe.

“If you don’t shut the fuck up for once in your life, I’ll fuck your throat so hard you won’t be able to speak for a week.” Lance blinked up at him. Keith panicked—was that too far? They hadn’t really explored anything beyond making love in the bedroom, after all.

Lance’s hips starting gyrating, desperately chasing for any source of friction. Keith chuckled. “You like that, huh?” he asked.

Lance nodded.

“Will you be a good boy, then? And let me fuck you the way you need it? Little brat,” he said. Lance’s eyes shone with hunger, and Keith knew his own looked similar. He sank down, keeping a hand over Lance’s throat while he worked his pants open.

 

* * *

 

Shiro had joined the others in the second command room. It was a surreal scene, the Blade members playing cards with King Alfor and Princess Allura, of all people. He waved at Matt before sitting next to him.

“Sorry,” Matt began. “I know it doesn’t mean much—I should have told you, but—“

Shiro grabbed him by the back of his head and kissed him hard.

Several seconds later, he pulled back. Matt—and the rest of the room—was staring at them in awe.

“I like you,” Shiro said. “I want to date you. I want to join you. I believe that all good relationships rely on open communication and don’t want there to be any secrets anymore.”

Matt nodded. “O-Okay. Yeah, sure, I’ll date you. Oh! I like you, too. Communication is key. Secrets bad. Speaking of, Pidge is a furry.”

“Oh my god he meant no secrets about you guys!” Pidge yelled. “And being attracted to other species doesn’t make me a furry!”

Hunk held up a finger. “Well, technically—“

“One more word and you’re dead.”

They heard screams, and Shiro rose to his feet, recognizing the voice.

“What’s going on?” Acxa asked, turning toward the door.

“It sounds like Keith,” Shiro said, worried. “He and Lance were getting really riled up. I hope they don’t hurt each other." There was a second shout, this one more revealing as to what was happening.

“Oh that’s Lance,” Hunk smiled. “He’s loud during sex.”

“We know,” everyone but the Alteans said. They all looked at each other, then laughed.

They started hearing some words—not very nice ones—and blushed.

“I have music,” Acxa offered, taking out a tablet and turning up some classical music.

Turns out, Lance is even louder than a Galran cellphone speaker’s maximum volume, even through two metal doors. How was that even possible? Shiro mused. At least the music drowned out his brother’s sex noises—that wasn’t anything he was keen on hearing. Ever.

They continued their card games, pointedly ignoring each sound that managed to leak into the room. Finally, an hour after Shiro’s arrival, the pair of the hour entered the room, thankfully both having showered, presumably in Keith’s old cell.

“'Sup guys,” Lance smiled lazily. Keith’s hand was intertwined with his, and he dragged him toward a mini fridge, removing two water bottles.

“So… uh…” Shiro began. He cleared his throat. “You done fighting?”

Lance let go of Keith’s hand, chugging his water while shooting a thumbs up. Keith opened his own water and spoke. “Yeah, we’re good. Joining this dumbass revolution, or whatever.” He took a sip and Lance smacked his back.

“What Keith means to say is that he’d like to be considered to become a full-fledged member of the Blade of Marmora, right honey?” he glared.

Keith returned the glare. “Yeah, sure thing, dear.”

Shiro sighed. Well, they had time to work things out.

“Matt and Shiro are dating!” Pidge reported.

“Oh my god, seriously?” Lance ran to Matt’s side, forcing him into a high-five. “Knew you had it in you, buddy!”

“It was Shiro, actually,” he confessed.

Keith extended a fist to Shiro for bumping purposes. “Nice.”

“Thanks. Also… nice.”

He laughed, and Lance rolled his eyes. Sidling up to Keith, Lance ducked under his arm and secured himself against his side.

“So,” Lance began. “What’s next?”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mentions of depression and eating disorders

From the moment he was born, it was clear that Alonso César Morillo was destined for great things. He was strong, big, and, luckily enough, born to a rich family.

From the moment he was born, it was clear that Alonso César Morillo II, from then on called either Lonsito or Lance, would struggle. He was so small, cried too much, clung to his parents. He was born to the same family, but they’d gotten less rich over time. Alonso Sr. saw that his son was weak, just like his country. As his son grew up and bore none of his father’s strong features but his mother’s fine ones, not his father’s commanding presence but his mother’s desire to please others, no talent for oration or persuasion but only a pretty face, he was shunned.

His father didn’t like his beauty, but others did.

No one liked when someone was ugly.

So Lance checked himself constantly. When he was getting too rowdy, he reigned it in, earning smiles and candies from his teachers. When his siblings were trying to sneak out to the plaza steps to drink with friends, he said no to joining them and told mama, receiving praise for his honesty. When he gained weight or pimples or anything else others deemed unsightly, he fixed himself by any means necessary, and people fell in love with him for it.

He didn’t like it when he was ugly, because when he was, it was _bad._

He had horrible thoughts, he knew, depressing shit that no one else wanted to hear about. Hell, if they were such a hindrance to him, why would he subject others to them? So he ignored them, ignored a lot more things, like his hatred for his abuela and papa, all those mean things he wanted to say to kids in his class who sneered at him and called him “Prince”, all his thoughts of running away or ending his life just to escape from his war-torn home… he’d been taking all those ugly little thoughts and hiding them down, deep deep down inside of him.

Because he hated ugly things. And he was an ugly thing.

Flirting was easy. Putting your best foot forward? He made his best foot his only foot, else people might think that he wasn’t perfect Lance, smiling and joking and fun Lance.

Lance who always put out, because people liked that.

He didn’t like it, and some people made him feel ugly even after their praised him for a job well done. He put those thoughts with the rest of them.

Even later, on Daibazaal, he’d found friends in Hunk and Pidge, but the thought of confiding in them, of unloading so much on people he'd just met? At that point, almost two decades of baggage later, to do so wouldn’t be fair.

Well, he thought to himself, if it were the other way around _he’d_ be a good friend and listen, unlike them.

…Another ugly thought to hide away.

Lotor of course had been something of an anomaly, since Lance was doing his usual act out of obligation to a cause, to a group that depended on him, rather than out of self-preservation. It was easy to act the way he had because he always acted that way around people whose approval he wanted.

Then there was Keith. Keith who fell in love with his lie, just like all the others. What made him so special? He made Lance feel like he could open up, for one, and while he didn’t reveal his darkest thoughts, as Keith had pointed out, a little bit of those ugly bits had leaked out, and Keith had loved them still.

Lance had never met anyone who loved ugly things, himself included.

He hadn’t seen Keith’s ugliness, they were so caught up in their honeymoon phase that there wasn’t room for that kind of thing, there was only affection. Perhaps it was because Keith saw all the ugliness around Lance, courtesy of Lotor and the state of Daibazaal, that he didn’t want to introduce anymore into their little system. Or perhaps he was too distracted by his perception of Lance, who he called perfect and worthy and gorgeous, when all Lance thought he was was ugly wrapped in pretty packaging.

Lance's behavior had always been reinforced; his ugliness, the opposite. Keith, though he didn’t know it, followed this pattern as well, delighting in Lance’s sweet, constant smiles and bubbly attitude. Even when Lance cried, he cried because he was so self-sacrificing—a beautiful sentiment. Keith's praises, even though not always concerned solely with his outer beauty, as Lance had pointed out bothered him, were always about the beautiful parts of Lance, the fancy plume he used to distract from what was really going on.

It made sense—who would praise depression? Rage? Guilt?

But that fight… that was ugly. He’d said ugly things, and his ugly things were called out. But… Keith was still there. It was only a matter of time, Lance thought, before more things would come out, and Keith would get mad and say that he didn’t trust him, that he hurt him, or whine about whatever the fuck he whined about before.

Well, there’s another ugly thought.

And Lance wanted this whole thing to work out. He already felt like that one fight was a step in the right direction—not that he wanted more of those. But, maybe just more honesty, even if it meant getting ugly for a bit.

He started out simply, with his outer form. While Thace and Ulaz met with the “counsel of assembled guests”, as they liked to call them—Keith preferred calling them the hostages, but that usually earned him a smack—Lance finally had some time to just be with Keith, not hiding from anyone, even himself. He elected not to wear any makeup, barely did a thing with his hair and eyebrows, and borrowed a pair of Keith’s leggings to wear under a plain t-shirt.

He looked at the mirror distastefully. He looked horrendous.

Keith walked in, fresh from the shower, and balked.

“What are you wearing?” he asked.

Lance frowned. “I just wanted to try something new. I’ll take it off—“

“Damn right you will,” Keith growled, grabbing him by the waist and dragging him to the bed.

Well, that was an outlier. Keith was just a horny guy. And he’d reawoken a certain vivacity in Lance, too, that he hadn’t known in years; he felt like he wasn’t just being used, for one, like he was allowed to enjoy pleasure from sex. Maybe Keith was right—all those years of repressing his feelings for men because of his abuela, of denying that part of him, had had their impact. But he was learning that sex wasn’t dirty, that it was okay to have it and to want to have it.

If Keith noticed his increased libido in the following days, he didn’t comment on it.

He stopped trying so hard to impress his other friends too, doing away with the over-the-top flirting and joking he did just to fill the silence. Keith had told that his flirting bothered him, anyway, that he tended to get jealous, possessive, even. He’d been so embarrassed to admit that, that ugly thing, but Lance had been so happy to hear that he wasn’t alone in that regard, that they were more similar than he’d thought. Keith had appreciated the change, and it let Lance use up all of his best lines—which turned out just to be truths—on his boyfriend.

He was still loud, of course, perhaps even more so. He didn’t work so much to monitor how frequently he spoke, or his volume, or the content of his words. His attention wasn’t the best, he knew, and when he was young his mother had called him “special” for it, but she hadn’t meant it in a positive way. He’d thought that part of him, his brain’s inability to focus, ugly, and so tried to hide it.

“Hey Lance,” Pidge said. He looked up, pausing his rambling. It was a month after The Fight, and here he was still dwelling on it and its implications. “I’m asking this from like a genuine, medical perspective: do you have ADHD?”

No, that wasn’t a good thing, mama had said all the dumb kids had that. It was ugly. He swallowed. “Yeah.”

“Do you take anything for it?” she asked.

“Uh, no.”

“Do you want to see someone about it maybe? I think it would help.”

He smiled. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Seeing psychiatrists wasn’t good, he’d been told. It meant there was something wrong with you. He’d been hesitant to go, but Keith had noticed how introspective he seemed, a month after his talk with Pidge. Keith asked if there was anything he could do, and Lance told him the truth.

“I love you too much to burden you with all the ugly things that I’ve bottled up inside. I’m afraid that if I tell you things, you’ll get mad at me again for hiding things from you, but it’s not for any reason other than that I’m not ready to face them myself.”

Keith had started crying, upset that the things he said during their big fight were still affecting him. So, he suggested that Lance talk about his things to someone he didn’t love, as a first step to getting him closer to opening up to Keith.

Through all his self-examination, Lance realized that he may have been neglecting Keith. As he’d learned, they both had some ugly things in them. After a few sessions with a therapist, he thought that maybe they’d be wise to try couple’s counseling.

The first meeting was horrible, neither of them wanting to speak about anything with this stranger, a stranger who would surely judge them for how they'd met and gotten together. They only started talking five minutes before the end of their session, but at least they kept up their conversation over dinner, making some progress. There were trust issues, but Lance knew they could be fixed. He told Keith as much, the night before the first election on Daibazaal.

“I trust you, Lance,” Keith said, running his fingers through his hair. “I love you.”

He smiled, snuggling closer against Keith’s chest before falling asleep.

The next night found them at their friend’s campaign headquarters, which was actually just Lance’s old apartment. It was convenient for Mrinik, given how close it was to his own home. And since Lance and Keith had moved into a small apartment of their own, he had no need for that old place. He thought a fresh start was for the best, anyway.

They watched the TV screens as votes came in, enjoying some food from Hunk’s new restaurant. Mrinik was a bundle of nerves, though he didn’t have to be. He won a solid majority, the Freedom Party officially moving into the Capitol. They celebrated late into the night, with Keith and Lance excusing themselves just after midnight.

“Man, can you believe this?” Lance asked, grinning. “Only a year since it all started.” He shook his head. “And look how much has changed.”

Keith nodded, squeezing his hand. “Still love you, though.”

“But it’s a different love, isn’t it?”

“You’re right. Better, I think. Stronger.”

Lance giggled. “Still cheesy as ever.” Keith tugged him away from the large sidewalk and down an alley. “Where are you taking me, mullet?”

“Trust me, Princess. It’s good.”

He chuckled. “Fine, fine. But if we witness any murders I’m blaming you.”

They exited onto a familiar plaza, food trucks open for the partiers who had turned in a little earlier.

“Want something to eat?”

Gods, yes he does. His mama used to pour salt on his food when she said he was done, even if he wanted more. He knew he didn’t need food at that moment, but there was nothing wrong with simply enjoying the taste, he reminded himself.

Keith could almost hear him thinking, using reason to deal with the illogical and intrusive thoughts he sometimes had when it came to food. Lance had opened up about that part of himself when Keith noticed him stop eating for almost a week. Keith walked toward a truck that offered the closest thing to Mexican food they’d been able to find on Daibazaal.

“Hey!” Lance called out a few seconds later, following behind him.

“I think I’ll get the sorta-burrito,” Keith said.

“I’ll get the small sorta-burrito,” Lance said.

“You sure?”

Lance nodded.

After paying for their food, they sat at a table for two, digging in ravenously.

“Gods, we just ate, but this is so good,” Lance moaned. “Man, we’re definitely cooking tomorrow, if I don’t have some more Mexican food inside me, I’ll die.”

“It’s my turn to pick food tomorrow, you know.”

Lance whined.

“I pick Mexican,” he said.

Lance brightened. “Inspired choice, my man.”

He finished his burrito and, after helping Keith finish his, they continued on their trek, Lance still not sure where they were heading.

Keith stopped in front an alley—The Alley, as it were—and stared fondly for a few seconds.

“I can’t believe this is where you realized you done fucked up,” Lance slapped his back. “Tough luck, buddy.”

Keith scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Well, at least I wasn’t the one vomiting.”

“Need I remind you of Valentine’s Day night, Mr. Projectile?”

“Never mind that, come on.” He hurried down the plaza, toward where Lance knew most of the bars and clubs were. Instead of heading down that street, they turned down another, this one reserved for apartments.

“Do you actually have a destination, or are you just exploring?”

Keith shrugged. “It’s about the journey, isn’t it?”

“You're the worst. I’m dating the weirdest man in existence.”

“You’re definitely weirder.”

“Nope, that’s false, and I think all our friends will attest to my being right.”

“Here, just a little farther.”

“Keith, are you making me climb a hill?” he whined.

Keith flicked his arm. “It’s not even that high.”

“Me either, unfortunately,” Lance sighed. Still, he continued down the trail. They were surrounded by trees and given the hour, Lance was a bit spooked. He clung to Keith’s arm like a vice, eyes snapping to any stray sound from the bushes.

Eventually they reached the end of the path, and the tress thinned out to reveal a nice, grassy knoll. At the very top were two trees, boughs forming a natural arch.

“Is there a cryptid who lives up here or something?” Lance asked.

“Trust me, I’ve done my research, and there are no reported cryptids on this hemisphere of Daibazaal. Which reminds me, we really should head south sometime. Specifically to the Dune Forests, home of the—“

“Flame Rabbit, yeah yeah. Buy the tickets and we’ll go.”

Keith's heart soared. “You remembered.”

“Of course.”

They stopped in front of the trees, looking back toward the city lights below.

“It’s pretty,” Lance said.

“Yeah. What do you think of this spot? Not just the view.”

He turned to the trees. They were… pretty generic. It was flat, though, maybe a good spot for a picnic sometime.

“It’s cool. Good… uh… trees.”

“I think so too!” Keith replied. Lance chuckled at his excitement.

An old conversation crossed Lance’s mind, and he startled. “Oh, shit. Wait.”

Keith grabbed his arm, grinning mischievously. “Figured it out have you?”

“Goddammit Keith, my nails aren’t even manicured! You can’t do this to me! How can I preserve this moment with a picture if my nails are looking rough?”

Despite his protests, Keith knelt on one knee and reached into his pocket. “I really liked this spot. Thought we could get two uses out of it.”

“How frugal,” Lance rolled his eyes. “Are we even allowed to have a ceremony here—isn’t this public property?”

“Well, we do know the president, don’t we? I’m sure he could pull some strings.” He fumbled a bit with the ring box, finally opening it with a click. “Lance.”

“Yeah, what’s up?” he pretended to be uninterested, but he couldn’t stop vibrating. He looked down at Keith.

“I love you, so, so much. And I want to keep loving you, till death do us part. Even later, when we’re like star dust and shit, I wanna be mingling with you through the galaxy.”

He giggled. “Cool, cool. Gimme!” he reached for the ring, but Keith held it out of reach.

“I’m not done! And, um, I know things have changed between us, but it’s truly been for the better, and you’ve helped me with so much of my shit, and it’s just been so inspiring seeing you working on yourself every day, too, even if you think it’s ugly, and you get embarrassed when you need to spend the day in bed or can’t stand to be near anyone, even me, and, well, I’m just so grateful that we’ve gotten to truly experience each other in so many capacities and situations. That we recovered and have only grown closer every day. Anyway... ever since I saw you in that gown, I knew I needed to see you in another one, this one for me—for us—up on this hill with these trees and sunshine and soup.”

“And hangovers.”

“And hangovers,” he confirmed. “So. Will you marry—“

“Yes!” Lance squealed. “Now ring me!” he stuck his hand in Keith’s laughing face. Keith grabbed the ring, slipping it onto Lance’s fourth finger. It was a perfect fit, though they didn’t have much time to admire it before Lance pounced on top of Keith, dragging him to the ground. He sat up a few inches, smiling down at his fiancé.

“I love you, more than I think I’ll ever have time to say. And I know I have a lot of shit, that sometimes I forget about your needs—“

“No, Lance, you don’t. Please don’t say that.”

“—no, it’s okay, I need to own up to it. So I can be better about it. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I’m so glad that I didn’t fuck it all up, that you loved me enough to take a chance. That it’s paid off a thousand times over, in my opinion, because you just make me so happy, and now I’m crying,” he laughed, wiping at his eyes. “Thank you, Keith. For everything.” He pressed a sweet kiss to his lips.

 

* * *

 

“Nope, this is a mess, I can’t do this, I’m going to trip and fall down the hill and everyone’s going to laugh,” Keith paced, a wreck.

Shiro laughed. “You sound just like Lance, from last year.”

“Don’t be silly, Lance was being completely irrational.”

“You just complained about falling down a flat knoll. And earlier worried that you’d forget your suit when you were already wearing it.”

“Hey, uh, could we, like, be less loud,” Hunk groaned. He fanned himself under the shade of the trees. “I’m so hungover.”

“We’re all hungover, that’s the point!” Keith said.

“Korean weddings are weird,” Hunk noted. Shiro nodded in agreement.

On the other side of the hill, Lance was much more composed, namely because he was asleep.

“Uh, should we wake him up?” Pidge asked. Allura shrugged. During their time advising the Blade, she’d become an integral part of their group. Coran had also amended his relationship with both her and Alfor, although his correspondence with the King had grown a bit more… intimate than anyone had anticipated. Apparently it wasn’t a new thing, but rather a rekindled flame. Perhaps that lover to the nobleman would get his happy ending after all.

“Maybe give him a few more minutes?” she suggested. “He’s fine to walk in a bit late.”

Their problem solved itself when Lance yawned, stretching and throwing his face mask off. “I’m gonna vom.”

“Dude…”

“I’m so hungover. And Keith and I were up till like, five AM!”

“Nice,” Allura nodded.

“I don’t wanna walk, or exist, right now. Can we postpone till I’m not dead?”

“No,” Pidge said firmly.

“Damn.”

The wedding march sounded from on top of the hill, meaning they had to get started. Pidge bent down to put Lance’s shoes on for him. He stood, cursing as his head spun.

“Shit,” he said. “One sec.” He made his way to the thicket, grabbed a tree, hunched over, and threw up.

“Keith’s into that, you know,” Pidge said to Allura. “Said he fell in love with Lance when he vommed on him.”

“Not the story!” Lance said. He stood up straight, and Allura rushed over to make sure he wasn’t too much of a mess.

“Okay, can’t guarantee your breath smells good, but you’ll look good for pictures!” she smiled.

“You’re the best, Allura,” Lance smiled. “Alright, let’s go!”

Pidge took her place at the front, starting up the hill and complaining all the while. Allura waited a few seconds then proceeded with a bit more poise.

Lance didn’t have to fake anything. From the second he saw Keith, smiling at him under the damn generic trees, he was glowing. He didn’t even walk down the aisle, instead rushed down, passing Allura and jumping into Keith’s arms.

He caught him, spinning him around before setting him down.

“If I’d known it was a race,” Allura muttered, taking her spot.

Besides the bridal party, there were a few guests in attendance: the Blade, Ezor, Blaytz. Most were wearing sunglasses and everyone exuded a miserable air.

The president himself was their minister—he’d gotten ordained using the Earth’s internet, even, certificate sealed by the Pope himself, the site had said. Lance had been ecstatic.

Mrinik didn’t have much to say, only giving a short introduction and the bare minimum required of him, as the couple had requested.

Lance gave his vows first, keeping things short and sweet. “I’m not sure if there’s more I could say to you that I haven’t already, but it’s okay. I mean, we have the rest of our lives together so if anything comes to mind I can just turn to you and say it. I love you, Keith. Te amo para siempre.”

Keith took out a stack of cards, and everyone groaned. “Lance, I…” he hiccuped, slumping forward with a snot-filled sob.

“Oh no, babe!” Lance cooed, pulling him against his chest. “You didn’t even get anything in!” he said.

“That’s not… what you said last night,” Keith said.

“Nice!” Shiro called out.

“God, I want a divorce,” Lance rolled his eyes. “Bud, I don’t think you’re gonna be able to finish—no one make a joke—your vows.”

Keith shook his head, shoulders shaking. Lance pat his head.

“Let me guess them, then.” He cleared his throat. “Lance,” he began, voice much lower than Keith’s. “You’re the best. I love you so much. Especially that sweet ass.”

Keith laughed, holding up a thumbs up as he continued crying.

“Sweet, is that it?” Lance turned to Mrinik.

“Oh, well, now you kiss.”

“Oh, we don’t do that,” Lance said. He tipped Keith’s face upward. His eyes were red, he looked a bit pale—probably the hangover—and there was some snot that he snorted up loudly.

“You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen,” Lance smiled down at him.

“I love you,” Keith said.

“You may kiss!” Mrinik said.

Smiling, they met in the middle, a chaste kiss.

Keith pushed him back. “Did you throw up?”

“Behind a tree, yes.”

“Christ,” he laughed. “We’re a mess.”

“We’re each other’s messes.” Another kiss—he ignored the way Keith’s nose scrunched up in disgust.

The pictures their friends had gotten from the day were hideous. No one was ever looking at the camera or smiling properly. People were pulling faces, and Hunk had kept his sunglasses on through the ceremony. The sunlight proved to be horribly unflattering, and everyone looked like they’d met death that morning and lost. Badly.

The pictures were ugly, and they were genuine. Lance loved looking at the album, reminiscing about the day he married the love of his life, or, as he preferred to call it, the day he had the worst hangover of his life.

Because sometimes life wasn’t pretty, and even something as seemingly perfect as love between soulmates wouldn’t always be pretty. A lot of times, things you thought were ugly were just someone else telling you that they were, when they truly weren't anything at all. Sometimes seeing the ugly things in someone reveals something beautiful, a secret pearl born out of pressure and hardship. But sometimes things were just ugly, and that was fine, too.

Lance shut the album, setting it on his nightstand before looking at his husband. Wiry scruff on his upper lip, boogers in the ducts of his eyes, drool on his chin, and, worst of all, he snored.

He fell in love with all of those things, even the ugly ones, because they were Keith’s. Keith wasn’t perfect—no one was—but he was exactly what Lance needed. The one who helped him make his own happily ever after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh it's done~~~~ I loved writing this so much.... I hope you enjoyed! Talk to me on tumblr (same name) or check out my other klance fics if you love me. This pairing is just so :)))))))


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